Letters to You
by moomolie1709
Summary: It's 1944 and the Second World War continues to rage on. Dealing with agonizing guilt, a weary soldier finds haven in an unexpected source. He falls in love with a girl he's never even met. AU, Stefan/Caroline.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Warning, this is very AU. Please keep an open mind and give it a chance, I hope you like it!

_**Letters To You: Part I**_

_The year is 1944 and the Second World War is raging on strong. Stefan Salvatore deals with the consequences of his service to his country, and is caught with the presence of a stranger in his life. A story of romance and tragedy, a forever telling of the unexpected. _

**Chapter 1**

Stefan Salvatore never dreamed of falling in love.

His future had always been one filled with purpose. Blessed by a life of privilege and money, gifted with effortless success, he wanted for nothing. He was educated, eloquently spoken, deemed dashingly handsome with his brooding good looks. But nonetheless, he'd grown up with dysfunctional parents and a resentful older brother. It was safe to say that he never truly believed in unconditional affection. He'd never felt it, so how could he believe in something he'd never experienced?

For every girl he'd dated, there was always be another reason to break it off. Every woman young woman he'd courted had been too attached, too invested, too serious. There were no lasting connections, no significant bonds. Despite having a girlfriend on his arm at all times, he couldn't say he'd ever been in love.

So it was pure insanity, when he realized he was falling for a girl he'd never even met.

It all started a year after he'd been stationed in Italy. He'd been so naïve when he'd first arrived, thinking that battle was all glory, all about killing Nazis and communists. He never thought of the losses he would find on his own sides. He watched, day after day, battle after battle, his comrades fall. The red blooded boy with a longing for escape and adventure, had turned into a jaded, desensitized man.

He was too young to be a soldier, they all were.

He didn't try to make any friends, the risk of death was too high. He didn't want to let anyone down, he didn't want to grow close with another soul. He was too fragile, not that anyone would know it from his stoic face and recluse behavior.

Yet somehow, a complete stranger, a boy from a life entirely polar from his own, managed to break down his barrier.

Matt Donavon was thought to be one of the lucky ones. He always managed to get out of every battle without a single scratch, a skilled and loyal soldier. Tall and athletic, with blonde hair and blue eyes, he epitomized the All American Boy. Stefan recalled how girls back in the states swooned over guys that looked like that.

To two of them were a strange pair, they were complete polarities. Matt came from an impoverished home, too poor to pay his way out of the draft; Stefan was the son of a wealthy businessman who'd voluntarily enlisted to escape the stifling nature of the world he grew up in. Matt believed he'd already met the love of his life, while Stefan would try to remember what he felt when he looked at his girl back home.

They drank, they smoked, they talked; they were fast friends. They had each other's backs, throughout everything, both of them could count on the other to look after them.

Matt's term of duty was to end first, Stefan's own return scheduled a month later. It was less than twenty hours before Matt was to board a plane back to the Big Apple, when disaster seemed to find him. Their camp had been bombarded by enemy planes, the bombs dropped like a hundred pins all at once. The rained down at every turn, the smoke exploded around them. Most of them ran, running for protection. Majority of them managed to emerge with minimal injuries, Stefan had. He looked down at his gas mask, thinking how lucky he had been to have his.

He froze though, as he realized the gas mask didn't belong to him. It was Matt's.

Donavon had caught Stefan on his way out to patrol. He'd slapped his back with a beaming smile, bragging about getting to go home. Stefan had complained he'd forgotten his supplies back at the bunks, he was about to run over to get it when Matt stopped him. Matt handed him his own mask, saying he wouldn't need it, on account he'd was leaving the next morning.

He'd joked with a broad grin on his face, and ordered Stefan to "Try and not die" while he was gone.

It wasn't until it was too late, that Stefan remembered he never said 'You too'.

The attack was devastating, and everything was numb. Stefan felt nothing, thought nothing when two superior officers came out and escorted him to the medical tents. The tarp covered structure was stuffy, the air hot, the scent of metal too strong to imagine away. The bloodied cots sat under the bodies, some of them writhing in pain, others already long dead.

Stefan mentally cursed at the Italians. He knew that American Troops were waging biological warfare against their own enemies, but seeing the effects of Mustard Gas was horrifying enough for blind bias.

The officers led the younger man to a cot in the corner of the tent. The patient was nearly unidentifiable. Had they not handed Stefan the dog tags, he might not have ever recognized The All American Boy lying before him, countless burns covering his face.

Matt Donavon was a good soldier, they would later say. Matt Donavon was loyal, a good friend, selfless, brave, and courageous. He was responsible. People would whisper how it must've been bad luck that he'd wandered out without his supplies. No one knew whose fault all of it really was.

Stefan had fired fatal shots and killed countless others over enemy lines. But he never felt more a murderer than he did standing over the body of his once good friend. His legs stood stiffly as his vision blurred through the darkness of the tent, his organs twisted until he swore he couldn't breathe. Had Matt worn his mask, perhaps the damage would not have been so severe, maybe his lungs would not have been so irreversibly destroyed. Maybe then he would have a chance at living, maybe then he wouldn't be dead.

He waited for the officers to take their leave before he cried.

He sobbed silently for minutes, he couldn't have controlled it. It was a strange sensation, he couldn't remember crying since he'd been an infant. The tears escaped freely, his arms hung limp at his side.

But after those few minutes, stoic Stefan made his reappearance. He hastily wiped his tears and dispersed any semblance of regret, of weakness. He saluted the officers who returned to his side. One clamped down on his shoulder, casually placing something in his hand, encouraging him to keep his head up.

The other stepped aside and handed him a small wooden chest.

Stefan recognized the box immediately, he'd seen Matt sitting up on his bed with it every night. Matt could never stop talking about her, this girl he'd grown up with. With this lovesick smile plastered on his face, he would drone on and on about how he would get off that plane, pick her up in his arms, get down on one knee and propose. He said he was going to marry her. He swore she was an angel who fell from heaven.

Now Matt was from New York, and the Yankee stood out like a sore thumb in a regiment teeming with southern bred boys. Needless to say not everyone was willing to simply take his word on this seemingly flawless woman. They didn't believe him, but he was completely okay with that. He said he didn't need the competition anyway.

Matt would write to her religiously, scribbling down drafts before writing the actual letter, sealing it up, and mailing it the next morning. Whenever the post came, Donavon had been the first one to greet the transport. He'd told Stefan how she was all he had left. He never knew his father, his mother had run off with another man, and his younger sister had died of a chronic childhood infliction. He would stay up past dark, telling Stefan how this amazing girl had been the one to breathe life back into him. She sounded like a miracle, but she didn't sound real.

Stefan had a girlfriend too, this gorgeous brunette with a sweet disposition. She was elegant and graceful, she was what everyone thought Stefan wanted. Even after only months of courting, she promised to wait for him until he returned from Europe. She was the apple of every man's eye, even his brother. She should have been perfect.

He'd never seen the inside of the box, only he knew it contained Matt's most precious belongings. The letters _she_ wrote to him.

The army wasn't shipping bodies to the states anymore, it was too chaotic. Whatever respect and honor Matt deserved was paid during the intimate military burial that took place the next day. Soon there was nothing left of him but a memory.

It wasn't until after he'd returned to base that he opened the box. He'd gotten a day of leave, he was half drunk when he opened the box. With cautious hands, he delicately unfolded each leaf of paper, read every word.

Matt loved this girl, she was everything he seemed to live for.

After going through their exchanges, it was clear that she loved him too.

Guilt overtook him, almost knocking the air out of his body. His mouth felt dry, he clenched his jaw to keep his trembling lip still. He didn't know what to do, how to react. It had been his own stupidity that had left Matt unprotected. It was his fault he was dead. He had no idea what he was doing.

He took out a pen.

He couldn't hold it in, he needed to tell someone what he had done. He wanted to tell the one person he knew would hate him, the one person who would never forgive him. He wanted to receive the retribution he deserved. He didn't want to be pitied as the soldier who had lost his good friend, he wanted to be persecuted as the man who'd caused his comrade's death.

So he wrote.

Under the dim lighting in the barracks, he gripped the pen tightly and let the words bleed out.

He started his letter, he started all of it, with the same line.

_'Dear Miss Caroline Forbes,'_

Little did he know, this was the beginning to so much more.

**End Chapter 1**

A/N: Thoughts, anyone? I'm growing more attached to this pairing. Please leave a review if you want me to continue.


	2. Chapter 2

_Pairings: Stefan/Caroline, Tyler/Caroline, Stefan/Elena.  
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**Chapter 2**

She didn't leave her room for a week.

She'd been so excited at the prospect of him coming home to her. She rose early that morning, dressed in his favorite auburn dress with red detailing. She styled her hair so it fell prettily on her shoulders in soft waves. The weather had been uncharacteristically warm for an autumn day. The sun shone brightly, reflecting against the vibrant reds and yellows of the deciduous trees that lined the New York streets.

She got to the airport, joining the crowds of families and other young women anxiously awaiting the return of their soldiers. The plane door opened, and lines of exhausted yet simultaneously exuberant men in uniform rushed out to find their loved ones. She watched various other reunions, her eyes scanning the crowd for a certain sandy-haired man.

But she never found him.

She felt a hand lightly touch her shoulder, and spun around with a grand smile. But standing in place of the boy she thought she would see, were two other men in uniform.

"Caroline Forbes?"

She nodded apprehensively as she watched as they removed their hats, bowing their heads slightly. Wide eyed and breathless, she struggled to concentrate on the motion of their moving lips. She knew they were speaking, but she couldn't hear anything. It was like she'd gone deaf, their words inaudible.

Of course, she didn't need to hear everything, because she had caught one sentence which said it all.

_"We're terribly sorry for your loss,"_

She swore she felt the gaze of the various onlookers burning on her back. They all stared at her, the poor girl finding out right then and there that the man she loved had died.

"What?" she managed to get out quietly. She didn't raise her eyes to meet theirs.

Their mouths moved again, she didn't want to hear them

"No, that's not possible," she let out an unnatural laugh, shaking her head as she stared at the ground. She abruptly stepped back when one of them tried to steady her, "He wrote to me just last week," she insisted.

But it was the same.

She might not have wanted to believe them, but even she knew that there wouldn't have been anyone sick enough to play a cruel joke like this.

They proceeded with more recited sentiments. They handed her various items, a plaque, a flag, a uniform, a couple of honorable medals. The notion that a few lumps of pressed bronze and silver could excuse the loss of life as permissible made her sick to her stomach.

No.

Not Matt, not her Matt.

She fell into hysterics from there.

She nearly collapsed, her legs giving out beneath her. A nearby soldier caught her just before she hit the ground. She tried to push people away then, she refused to believe them. But then her eyes flicked to the folded uniform in their arms, _'Matthew Donavon'_ was sewn above the front pocket. Her trembling hands reached forward, her fingertips brushed along his embroidered name.

Her mother had to be called to take her home.

Elizabeth Forbes hadn't even been aware that Matt was coming home that day. She was all too consumed with her work at the police station to know the details, as she liked to put it. She was a hardened woman, and admittedly a failure at trying to comfort her daughter.

When they arrived back at the apartment, Caroline had slowly dragged herself up the stairs. She was out of sight as soon as they walked through the front door. When Liz came back to gather everything from the car, she realized that the uniform was missing.

Caroline had thrown Matt's jacket over her shoulders, his clothing hung loose on her slight frame. She pressed the sleeve against her cheek as she buried herself under the covers of her bed.

She'd always been too much to handle, but Matt never seemed to mind. He deserved better than her, much better. But he wanted her, God had he wanted her. He was smitten from the moment they met. Even as kids, he would sneak into her room at night to comfort her, the girl who cried herself asleep to the sounds of her drunkard father beating her mother like a punching bag.

She was damaged goods, a neurotic control freak. But Matt adored her all the more for it.

His image flashed in her mind. His smile, his laugh, his warmth. What had once been such a close reality was now an impossible fantasy. He was her life, and she thought she was his. Matt was gone, she would never see him again.

When she refused to get out of bed for the next week, her mother would sit on the edge of her mattress. The older woman tried her best to reach out to her, but it was futile.

"He was fighting in a war; this was always a possibility," Liz tried to reason, to no avail.

"He wouldn't want you to be like this, Caroline. What would he say if he saw you like this?"

She stopped sleeping, eating, and living altogether. She didn't bother to take care of herself anymore, what was the point? Matt was gone, he wasn't coming back.

But throughout it all, she never cried. It was like the reality had yet to settle. If she cried, she would be giving into the truth that he was dead. She wouldn't let it happen, she couldn't. Her eyes remained dry, though still swollen and red.

Even Tyler Lockwood had paid her a visit.

They hadn't seen each other for nearly a year now. He'd left their neighborhood after his father was put in the hospital following a a near fatal car accident. Tyler was always a secretive person, but Caroline and Matt, along with the rest of the city knew he had gone off to join the 'family business'. Circumstance had forced him to go; after all, training to one day run one of the largest crime syndicates in New York required the upmost dedication.

When she found him standing on her front porch, she could smell the light hint of alcohol still on him. Tyler wasn't one inclined to drink often, so she knew he'd already heard that their best friend had died before.

"Your mom asked me to come," the dark haired boy started, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward on the couch. When someone who worked for the police asked for a favor from someone with the infamous Lockwood surname, it was no small ordeal.

He'd talked her into drinking a cup of tea, but she just stared at the beverage, letting it cool as it sat untouched on the coffee table. "She's worried about you,"

Caroline stared blankly ahead. The spark in her eye had died, she was a hollow ghost of the cheerful girl she once was.

"Care," she winced at the childhood nickname, it was what Matt used to call her. She looked up at him as she heard his voice break mid way, "I miss him too," he repeated. She watched in awe at the tears that welled in his eyes.

But she didn't dare to let the water pour from her own eyes.

He promised not to leave again, he told her that Matt's death was a wakeup call. He said he couldn't risk losing her any longer. A touch of remembrance of the short lived flame Tyler once held for her flashed forward when he hugged her goodbye. She thought he whispered something in her ear, but she wasn't listening.

After he exited her house, she slipped back into Matt's jacket and climbed back under the covers. No one, not her mother, not Tyler, would tell her he was gone. She was determined to maintain her denial, and she was going strong, until the eighth day later.

It was on that eighth day following the incident at the airport, when the letter arrived.

It was on the rare occasion that Caroline had wandered downstairs to the kitchen that the pile of mail on the counter had caught her attention. She was by herself, her mother was at work and wouldn't return for hours.

At first glance, it was just the day's usual post. But as she passed by, she caught the familiar return address. The place of origin was the same, but the handwriting was different. She blinked pointedly, unsure if she was hallucinating. It wasn't Matt, she couldn't imagine who else was writing to her.

She picked the envelope up, examining it with scrutinizing eyes. On a whim, she ripped the paper in half, dropping both pieces and letting them float to the floor. She panted heavily, standing over the destroyed letter. She looked at it through narrowed eyes, immediately seeing the glint of silver that had spilled from one of the halves. It met the tiled kitchen tiling with a light 'clink', still capturing her attention.

She approached it slowly, bending down and eventually kneeling over to pick it up. She recognized it as one of those military tags, a metal necklace with two flat rectangular squares strung along the chain. It felt cool in her palm, something about it soothed her anxiety.

Something attracted her to the letter, as she now gingerly scooped the pieces of parchment off the ground. She didn't know what possessed her to take it into her room and tape it back into shape. After she restored the latter to its original state, she placed it carefully in the middle of her desk. Caroline didn't take her eyes off of it, shrinking away slowly until the back of her legs hit the side of her bed. She sat on the far corner, trying to put as much distance as she could between her and the letter.

She was going to leave it, ignore it. But curiosity had gotten the better of her.

Hesitantly, with the metal necklace still in one of her fists, she found herself transfixed on the distinctive scrawl written in dark black ink.

_Dear Miss Caroline Forbes,_

_I know that we've never met, but at this moment I look to you as my confidant. It sounds strange, but I feel as if I know you. Matt always had trouble keeping you off his mind. He could never stop talking about you, you were what he loved the most. He was a good man, the best soldier stationed here in Sicily. _

_Out here on the front, all of us come from almost different worlds. But Matt never accepted that, he was the one to unite everybody. If boys up North are half the man Donavon was, I wouldn't mind being surrounded by a bunch of Yankees. He was always looking out for everyone, the kind of no guy who saw 'no man left behind' until the end. He was the only friend I had out here, he was the best friend I've had in a long time. _

_His death is a burden that will never be lifted from my shoulders. I write to you, because you're entitled to know the truth. Matt died because of me. _

Caroline stopped reading for a moment, taken aback by his blunt affirmation. She pressed her lips together, willing herself to finish.

_You already know, he looks out for everyone else first. I had forgotten my mask while on duty, and he gave me his. He died without his gas mask when his station was bombed. It was my fault that Matt died._

_I write this because I have no one else left to tell. It seems everyone I try to explain this to ignores me and hands me a beer. I take full responsibility for his death. With every moment that passes, I wish for the chance to interchange my fate with his. I write to you so that you'll know he was a hero until the moment he died. He was a man I'll respect for as long as I live._

_Along with this letter, I have sent you Matt's I.D. tags. They were given to me after he passed. I know you'll put them to better use than I ever could. _

_My Deepest Condolences,_

_-S. Salvatore. _

Caroline let out the breath she realized she'd been holding in. She unconsciously lifted her hand to her face, blinking when she found her fingertips wet. She realized what had been blurring her vision.

She couldn't articulate what was going on in her head, she didn't know what to think. She was even more lost than before.

But she did, however, know that she needed to write him back.

**End Chapter 2**

A/N: I wanted to give readers a bit of Caroline's side of the story. I'd really appreciate any feedback on the letter portion. Anyway, I hope you liked it, thanks for reading! Please review if you want me to continue.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

He never expected an answer.

Thinking what he did about the contents of her letter, he shouldn't have read it. He was so sure she would castigate him with disdain, mark him as the murderous monster he was. Being so dangerously close to the edge of self destruction, her response would only throw him over into the abyss.

Never did he imagine what she really had to say.

He fingered the lighter in his pocket as he sat on his bunk that night, staring at the neat, delicate handwriting on the front of the envelope. His greyish green eyes looked at the way she'd written his name, unable to stop wondering what she wanted to tell him.

It scared him.

So he drew out his lighter, flipping open the cap. His thumb pressed down on the trigger, and a flickering flame appeared as if contemplating the possibility of destruction. He was about to raise the edge of the envelope to the tip of the flame, when he saw it.

Through the thin paper, he saw something. He saw the reddish color, revealed only be the light from the small fire in his other hand. From then, his hands found a mind of their own. They placed the lighter aside, taking the letter and unfolding the paper as he had done nearly two weeks ago after Matt's death.

_Dear Mister S. Salvatore,_

_You before wrote to me with the intention of shouldering the blame of a man's death, a man I loved dearly. His death crushed me, it was the most devastating news I've ever had to hear. I want someone to blame, I desperately wanted someone to hate. Matt Donavon might have been you're fellow soldier, but he was my everything. I don't think I've ever dealt with an experience as excruciating as I did the day I found out he was gone. You wrote with the intention of confessing the truth of your sins, but I see through you, clear as day._

_You're no killer. _

Stefan felt his heart drop.

How could she be so sure?

_As much as I want to, I could never blame you for what happened. Neither should you. If you wanted me to believe that you're some evil responsible for killing him, you're sadly mistaken. I'll have you know I'm not the kind of girl who does everything she's told, and as far as I'm concerned, we're all victims of this War. Matt was a good man, and I believe you to be one too. I've never been down South, but if the people are half the man you are, I wouldn't mind living amongst some countryside hicks. _

He felt the edges of his lips tug upward at the subtle playfulness, the way she mimicked his own serious words and turned them all her own.

_If Matt truly saved you like you claim, it's my responsibility, as well as yours, to see that his sacrifice is honored. People keep telling me that Matt wouldn't want to see me so upset, but whatever they have to say fails to resonate. But somehow with you, I can see it. Don't dwell on something you could never have prevented. Live your life. _

_Where I am right now, everyone walks on eggshells. No one talks about Matt, they're so bent on making me move on they refuse to discuss anything relatively close to him. I can't exactly describe how, but when I received your letter, it communicated something that no one else could. You said you lost your only friend the day Matt died. In a sense, I guess I lost my best friend too. So I make a proposal to you. _

_I'll be your new friend if you'll be mine._

_In exchange for your trouble, I send you something of my own. I used to mail Matt small mementos, little things to remind him of home. I know it's inane, can't bring myself to cease this habit. A little reminder of what you're fighting for, maybe it can add a little more color to your world. _

_A hopeful friend,_

_-Caroline Forbes_

He finished without quite understanding what to think. Incredulity and confusion still present on his face, he wouldn't quite figure out what to make of her message.

Stefan had never even heard of someone with such strength. It was strikingly remarkable, somehow astounding.

He remembered then to take the envelope, tipping it to one side so whatever remained inside would spill out. His eyes softened, he held the thin, brittle maple leaf in the center of his palm. He took the stem between his two fingers, holding it up to examine it more closely. The color had yet to turn completely, mostly a vibrant, saturated orange with a deep red border encroaching on its edges.

It was then that he realized he'd lost any practical sense of time. He'd long forgotten what day of the week, what month it was. He, along with so many others, had simply been counting down the days until the War would end. He'd forgotten that it was the Fall season.

He wondered why a gift so simple, so ordinary, made him feel like the most significant man in the world.

So no, he wasn't expecting that at all.

**-p-**

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" He leaned on the side of the door frame with his arms crossed as he looked on intently at the blonde before him.

"I'll be fine, Tyler," she assured him for the tenth time that night, "I'm home alone all the time. Trust me, I'm used to it,"

The past two weeks had gone by, two weeks since the day she was informed her boyfriend had been killed in action. Nearly one week had passed since she had resolved to start her life anew, one week since she'd received his letter.

Tyler left no promise empty since he first came to visit her. He was determined not to leave her again, he was going to salvage whatever was left from their friendship. Caroline didn't mind his presence, it filled her time and provided the necessary distraction. He would find her at work during her lunch breaks, take walks with her on weekends. They'd just come back from the a trip around central park when he insisted on taking her to a restaurant for dinner. She'd accepted his invitations hesitantly.

He walked her home, and questioned why none of the lights were on. She told him her mother was working late hours this week. And then that look, that troubled expression crossed Tyler's face.

"I can stay, you know," He tilted his head, trying to read her face. "This neighborhood is pretty rough. You don't know what kind of thugs are prowling around this time of night," he gestured to the street behind him.

"Exactly why I'll be in my house, not the street," she smiled lightly. She stepped back, half expecting him to turn around and take his leave, but he didn't budge.

The evening air was cool and brisk, a light gust of wind blew in from the open entrance. She looked at Tyler, her eyes focusing on his face. He was tanned, an aristocratic air about his features. The bridge of his nose was straight, his eyes a deep shade of charcoal brown. It hadn't occurred to her until now, but the mental image him she'd kept of him during his recent absence no longer applied. He was a grown man now, and a handsome one at that. Her eyeline trailed down to his broad shoulders. She realized his suit jacket was still around her shoulders.

She quickly shrugged it off and offered it back to him, waiting with her arm outstretched for him to take it.

"Are you okay?" he asked abruptly without warning.

Tyler had always found himself a good judge of character. He was a cynic by nature, inclined to find the bad in everyone. He could see through anyone's ulterior motives, spot a lie on a man's face in an instant. He was tough, and proud of his skills. Yet with Caroline, things were different. He'd known her for years, yet somehow she managed to elude him, forever an impossible enigma he could never figure out.

One moment she had been a wreck, distraught and overwhelmed. Then by some unmentionable miracle, she was all better. Aside from losing maybe the last ounce of innocence within her, she was the same sunny Caroline she'd always been. For the life of him, Tyler couldn't figure out what had allowed her to recover so suddenly.

She was taken aback by his question, her smile dropping in an instant. She lowered her gaze and held his jacket out towards him again. He took it this time. "I'm okay, Tyler. I swear,"

They both knew that was a lie, but neither of them were quite willing to mention it.

"Besides," she feigned a hushed tone and whispered behind one hand, "I don't think you staying here would do my mom's reputation any favors,"

He relaxed a bit, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "Would it now?"

"Well, Mr. _Lockwood_, you're not really the kind of boy the daughter of a woman who works with police should be hanging around with in the late hours of the day,"

Liz had never been quite comfortable with Caroline being even remotely acquainted with someone so closely tied with the mafia.

"Valid point," he admitted, almost in defeat. A crooked grin revealed gleaming teeth, his two canine teeth a bit larger than the rest.

"Bye, Care," he leaned forward, about to give her a hug goodbye. But as he got closer, he felt two hands place themselves on his chest and give a slight push away. His eyebrows met together perplexed, but backed off nonetheless. He stepped away with his arms still held cautiously up in the air.

A tension seemed to settle between them.

She tried to laugh it off, but her discomfort still extremely present. "Bye, Tyler," She offered a small wave.

He acknowledged her with a nod. "Goodnight," he restrained himself from offering her another embrace before shooting her one last linger gaze and exiting the front entrance. As the door shut behind him, she let out a breath of relief.

She was trying her best, going through the motions, acting as if everything was going to be okay. Caroline simply wanted some semblance of normalcy back in her life. Everyone censored themselves around her. She wasn't that girl anymore, the breakable doll threatening to shatter at any moment.

She tried to shake the feeling as she walked into the living room. She sprawled out on the sofa, exhausted after a long day of pretending. She was supposed to be Caroline, the girl who could handle anything thrown her way. She didn't want to make anyone worry about her anymore.

Then she remembered, the only person who she didn't have to act around. In fact, she could let every thought write itself.

She jumped to her feet with sudden initiative, rushing to the back front door. Completely barefoot and shivering from the coolness outside, she stepped onto her porch. She opened her mailbox, gathering every piece of post inside. She ran back inside, kicking the door closed lightly behind her.

She discarded the irrelevant mail as she got her hands on what she was looking for. Hardly able to wait, she rushed up the stairs into her room, clicking the lock before she sat on her bed.

She shred the top of the envelope, finding her prize.

Caroline bit her bottom lip as she read that coveted first line.

_'Dear Miss Caroline,'_

**End Chapter 3  
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A/N: What do you guys think of the Tyler/Caroline situation and history? Thanks for reading, please review if you want me to continue!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N:_ This takes places several weeks after the previous chapters. Various letters have passed between Stefan and Caroline during that time. _

**Chapter 4**

He'd made his bed, and now he would have to lie in it.

A military career wasn't quite the path he imagined for himself. He was always the one meant to carry on the Salvatore legacy, to inherit his father's business and keep the abundant green in the family. With an irresponsible hedonist for an older brother, expectation fell upon Stefan's shoulders. Always the responsible son, the intellectual, the gentleman, his life was planned out for him, never with the opportunity to voice any control over his future.

Everyone was left stunned when the young, obedient, and upright Stefan Salvatore defied his father and enlisted to fight a war worlds away. Joining the military had been the most brazen thing he'd ever done, but thirteen months down the line, and he was sure it had also been the worst.

Physical wounds could heal, but there were some scars that would never recover. Fatal and irreversible injuries: the psychological damage was something that could never be undone. He would carry forever with him the memories of his fallen comrades, his dead friends, the burden of guilt that came with wielding a weapon designed to take lives.

He wanted to participate no more in this barbaric warfare, this excuse to kill in the name of so called justice and integrity. He longed to return home, to leave the horrors of combat forgotten on the battlefield. After nearly thirteen months, he was so close to his goal. He would be back in his Virginia home, eating his mother's cooking, riding his prized steeds in less than three weeks.

But it appeared the hands of Fate were working towards their own ambitions. And everyone knows, no one can run from their destiny. It just happened that she was his.

Now he awoke in the infirmary, a migraine pounding against his skull, a shooting pain running through his right shoulder. The bright lights were disorienting, his eyes instinctively shutting just as soon as he had opened them. He was in the hospital infirmary, but why? He couldn't recall any recent events. It was quiet, everything still. The white sheets below him, the clean white walls, the tidy white floors, he almost assumed he'd been sent into the afterlife.

It was when he squinted through his narrowed, irritated eyes that he found a pretty nurse staring back at him.

He watched unsteadily as she turned and unveiled an entourage of other soldiers. These boys were all around his age, some a bit younger, some slightly older. They were well bandaged, one of them standing on crutches; but all of them were beaming.

"Yeah," a voice agreed, "Congrats, man,"

They all came up to him as he struggled to sit up, thanking and congratulating him over and over again. Stefan had no idea what was happening, until another man entered the room. The rest of the group saluted the stranger, Stefan did the same.

"At ease," the man acknowledged, "Private Salvatore?" he eyed Stefan who was sitting on the cot.

"Sir," he greeted stiffly, tilting his chin downwards in confirmation.

"Congratulations, soldier," he tossed a small leather box in his direction, "You sure as hell deserve it,"

Stefan found himself the center of attention, a place he was never exactly fond of. He looked down at his hands, perplexed by the object he held in his palm. Realizing that everyone was waiting for him, he opened it. The inside of the box was lined with a dark colored velvet, a shining, silver rectangular pin stuck in the middle of it.

After being in the army for this long, it would've been impossible not to recognize the insignia. But this couldn't mean what he thought it did. He was only twenty two, only experienced with little over a year of combat. There was no way he could gain position as a commissioned officer.

"Show some respect," the man's voice ordered authoritatively, breaking his train of thought. "You're in the presence of your superior,"

He was about to angle his hand to his forehead, when the reality of the situation finally settled.

They were all saluting _him._

**-p-**

_Dear Miss Caroline,_

_I know I wrote you just a couple of days earlier, but I find the incredible, urgent need to communicate with you again. I've made a decision, something I've often not had the pleasure of doing myself. There seems to be no real explanation, but you are the one I felt most comfortable sharing it with. You may find my plight trivial, but to be honest, you're the only person who will understand. _

_I nearly died yesterday._

_The memory of it all hazes together and feels as if it had occurred lifetimes ago. There was an attack from the air on the base, planes flying through the air shooting everything and anything in sight. I wanted to run and take cover, it was what everyone was doing. But a flip switched in me. You once said before, that you thought me to be a good man. It struck me odd, how could you judge something so personal about a man you've never met. _

_Selfishness, detachment, cowardice, I embody such qualities that would never equate the 'goodness' you deem me worthy of. I've always followed my orders, I'm logical and shallow sided. So I suppose you can call it recklessness, maybe even stupidity, when I wanted to prove you right. I rallied a small group of men and manned the cross-channel stations. We hit seven out of the twelve planes. They told me I passed out close to after the last shots were fired. Today, they promoted me. _

_My term of duty was meant to end this week, I was meant to return home by the time you would have received this. For as long as I can remember here, all I've wished for was a chance to head back stateside. It was your words that again changed my mind. I accepted the promotion, and officially plan to see this war through to the end. _

_Thank you, Caroline Forbes. I wouldn't have earned this position or made this decision without you. I understand this is more than you originally anticipated, but would you mind extending our friendship while I'm here? Even these past few weeks, your letters have provided me with an incomparable solace. Maybe with your guidance, I'll make it out alive through all this. _

_With the Upmost Gratitude,_

_-First Lieutenant Stefan Salvatore_

Caroline smiled down warmly at the letter, though unsettled by all of the emotions running through her mind. She pushed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear as she sat on her bed, legs crossed, envelope on her lap. She couldn't tell if she was afraid, worried, proud, or moved by what he had written to her.

They'd been writing for a little over a month, and yet she could honestly confess that losing him would have been devastating. She was still raw over Matt's death, but even she could feel that there was some unidentifiable significance about Stefan Salvatore.

She shifted to the edge of her mattress with the letter still in hand, rising to her feet and then approaching the desk by the wall of her room that overlooked the street through a large paned window. The weather was growing colder and colder, the days shorter and shorter. September had come and gone, October now well on its way. Her eyes glazed over at the evening scenery as she fingered the thin chain around her neck.

Her hands lingered until she was cradling the small metal tag in her palm. It had been attached around her collar since she received it in the mail. While she managed to carry on with the motions of life, she'd had yet to part with the constant thoughts and memories of Matt. He was like a ghost, following her everywhere she went, his voice penetrating her head. It sounded more eerie than it felt, she simply didn't want to let go.

She angled her head down, her sight catching the letter again. She reread his words over, and that's when it hit her.

If he could make a decision, she could too.

A small light from the hallway out the door illuminated her quaint room. The window before her now appeared more a mirror than clear glass, her reflection showing up against the darkness outside. By now, the Sun had set completely, and a blanket of blackness covered her. She saw the fear, the reluctance in her eyes. But she spotted the sliver of courage, of will in them too.

Before she gave herself the chance to change her mind, she sharply sucked in her breath and slowly brought the back of the chain over her head. She held the dog tags in her hand, frozen for a moment. She glanced up, she felt naked without it on. Her hand went to press against the spot where the tag had once sat, positioned just slightly right of her heart.

Emptiness filled her, a hollow type of void. She placed a hand on the flat surface of her desk to steady herself, suddenly short of breath. She was tempted to return the necklace around her neck, but stopped herself. Hesitantly, she made her way over to the jewelry box located directly above her dresser.

She opened the bottom compartment of the case, turning her fist over and letting the metal slip over into the drawer. She pushed it closed, now feeling lightheaded.

Caroline stumbled her way back to the desk, pulling out the chair and taking a seat. She leaned forward, laying her head down on her folded arms. The wood of the table felt chill against the back of her forearms. It dawned on her that Stefan's letter was still clenched in her hand.

There was something, a certain force that enabled her to finally put away Matt's tags. She had yet to discover exactly what it was, but it was that same 'something' that had prompted her to write back, time and time again.

Without needing to think about anything else, she placed a pen in her hand and a sheet of paper under its tip.

After all, no one can really escape from the hands of Fate.

**End Chapter 4**

A/N: What do you think about their respective 'decisions'? Thanks for reading! Please review if you want me to continue.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_December 1944_

T'was the season.

The city was glimmering with a fresh veil of white snow, strings of twinkling lights bordering the edges of buildings, wrapping around lampposts and trees. The streets were filled with people, the stores overflowing with patrons preparing for the holidays.

A golden haired girl dressed in a camel colored coat, a dark navy dress peeking underneath, walked down the sidewalk in some of the most beautifully painful pump stilettos. She might have been uncomfortable, but that was the price to pay in order to look the appropriate part in her line of work. She'd just come from another meeting, another client was asking for yet another impossibly lavish event.

One might find it odd, a girl of low birth to be planning posh parties for New York's wealthy elite. But her talent was so undeniable that seldom anyone minded hiring her. She was good at what she did, and not even her poor pedigree could speak otherwise.

She was exhausted, and it was one of the rare occasions that she was graced with an afternoon off. Her legs were numb, and the soles of her feet ached. Yet she couldn't have been in a better mood. She stood on the corner of Fifth Avenue, and she was anticipating a day simply to appreciate the view. She stared through the window to the store's showcase.

She silently gazed at the generous array of dresses she could never dream to afford. She took a step closer, her fingertips so close to touching the transparent glass barrier, when someone from behind stopped her.

"I was wondering where you went,"

She froze for a brief moment before recognizing his voice. Several of his business partners had warned him to stay away from her. Just as Liz Forbes didn't want her daughter around Tyler, his associates thought it better if he avoided Caroline. Their rekindled friendship was deemed heinous by ends of both parties, but she should have known that wouldn't have stopped his impulse.

She smiled slightly as she swiveled on her heel, her head tilted at a slight angle as she eyed him suspiciously.

"My mother isn't exactly thrilled with me at the moment," she started, "And you're not helping my case,"

He stumbled back, feigning injury as he grabbed clenched his side as if to soothe a wound. "Well, I can't say you're helping mine either," he admitted, a mischievous glint in his charcoal eyes, a wolfish grin across his gleaming teeth.

He was dressed in a heavy black coat, matching his darkly shaded features. He made one long stride forward, joining her side and returning his attention to the store display she'd been admiring. He pointed with his index finger, "See anything you like?" he asked casually.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes after spotting ulterior motive in his question, "Nice try,"

Tyler had been trying to convince her to tell him what she wanted for Christmas. Now that he with a healthy, albeit illegal, flow of income in his possession, he could afford to buy her a gift he thought she deserved. But she'd shot him down each time he asked what it was she wanted.

"Come on, Care. We're already here," he indicated toward the lines of shops around them, "Name something, anything. Just say the word, and it's yours,"

She shook her head.

Tyler would likely resort to wasting exorbitant amounts of capital on a present. She wouldn't have it.

Besides, she'd decided to skip the celebrations this year. It would have been the first time within the realm of memory that she wouldn't be with Matt. It had never been about gifts. They had established a tradition of their own, just the two of them.

They would wait until everyone was asleep. Matt would arrive at her house first, then help her climb out of the window and down the gutters.

They'd walk the empty streets together, something magical, and thrilling about it. It provided an escape, a temporary and fleeting door out of the world they'd been trapped in. She was fifteen on that Christmas Eve four years ago, the night Matt finally gathered the courage to kiss her for the first time. She was sixteen a year later when he'd professed that he loved her.

He did so clumsily, fumbling with his words, unable to properly convey what he meant to say.

But she understood, nonetheless. He'd lifted her up and spun her around, she wrapped her arms around his neck and jokingly asked the measure in which he loved her.

_"To the moon and back,"_ he repeated over and over again, _"I love you to the moon and back,"_

It was the night that marked the once promising beginning of their relationship.

She used to adore Christmas, but now she dreaded it. She didn't dare, there were too many memories. She might have managed to stop mourning her loss, but this holiday would test her limit. So she would avoid it altogether.

"Caroline, are you okay?"

She felt someone touch her shoulder, shake her a bit to get her attention. "Caroline, what's wrong?"

"Tyler," she said aloud, not realizing the vacancy in her voice. "Sorry," she apologized as she touched the side of her head.

She looked at her friend, staring back at an expression of concern.

Caroline wished she could tell Tyler the reason she didn't want a gift, or explain to her mother why she didn't want to decorate the foyer. But she couldn't, even if she did, they wouldn't understand. They'd brand her unstable and treat her as if she were a broken porcelain doll.

Tyler opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off before he could.

"I need to go," she shrugged her shoulder out of his light grasp, "I'll see you later, okay?"

She didn't wait for his answer before taking off in the other direction.

**-p-**

_Dear Mister Salvatore,_

_What is it that you wish for this Christmas?_

**-p-**

He'd bought a ring.

He wasn't quite sure why he'd purchased such a piece of jewelry, but for some reason it spoke to him. He was spending an afternoon off duty, a privilege he could now enjoy with his newly commissioned officer status.

He'd wandered into a small, antique looking local store. The streets were safer for American soldiers now; Mussolini was losing ground, and losing it quickly. The United States and her allies were close to the claiming a victory in the foreign domain. The violence had died down, and Stefan found the native people here to be quite amiable.

He was dressed as a civilian, a simple white pressed shirt with a jacket over his broad shoulders. Sicilian winters were surprisingly warm during the day, the sun's bright rays warming everything they touched. He visited the morning market, vendors calling out prices and advertising the quality of their products. He strolled uneasy at first, stunned by the apparent normalcy in the small town. Children skipped through the small winding roads, dragging their parents with eager grips.

A benevolent elderly man with a kind smile managed to beckon him into his small shop, an establishment filled with small adornments and antiques. Despite having prominent Italian heritage coursing through his veins, Stefan was nowhere near fluent in the language of his ancestors. Through broken words and communication, the older man pulled Stefan to the back display counter.

"Girl," the man inquired after pausing, "You have a girlfriend?" It wasn't entirely inscrutable, even with the thick accent. Stefan nodded, his eyes scanning through the selection.

They were all extremely old fashioned looking pieces. A couple of gold and silver necklaces, an expensive looking watch to the side.

He'd been feeling guilty lately. While he spent a great deal of his time reading, writing, and pondering the letters he exchanged with a girl he'd never met, he'd neglected the numerous other messages.

The ambivalent and obligatory 'hello' from his older brother, the distressed interrogations from his mother, the severe words of disapproval from his father, and the soft spoken encouragement from a certain Elena Gilbert.

He'd managed to ignore all of them, finding himself unwilling to communicate with them. He'd written one letter to his father explaining his decision to stay and fight the War into completion. He never received one in return.

Stefan had resorted to bribery. If he could appease those who were frustrated with the absence of his responsiveness, he would do it in the most accessible way. He wasn't the confrontational type, never had been.

He eyed the various items, eliminating choices in his head as he moved down the line.

And then he saw it.

Not ornate nor bare, not feminine nor masculine, not beautiful nor hideous. Something about it was just perfect. His hand reached forward as

The light seeping from the open door crept in, as if directed especially toward the ring. It was small, definitely a woman's piece. It was silver, thick banded, a single lazuli gem in the middle. The metal detailing curved and gave the otherwise simple piece character. The closer he looked, the more drawn he felt to it

He looked up suddenly, seeing the old man smiling widely at him. He was clearly excited, for a reason Stefan had yet to decipher.

"For girl?"

"Yes," Stefan confirmed, still entranced by the ring sitting in the middle of his palm. "For a girl,"

"Wife?"

That caught him off guard. To be quite honest, Elena's fidelity and commitment to him was largely unfounded. They'd known each other for a number of years now, but they had only begun officially dating for several months before he'd enlisted. Despite having 'dated' for over a year, she wasn't the same sweetheart his fellow soldiers had. Never had he thought to take their relationship to a more serious level.

"No, Sir. Just my girlfriend," he clarified.

The older man shook his head, obviously thinking Stefan had misunderstood him. "Yes, girlfriend. But soon to become wife?"

The thought to propose to Elena one day might have been a rational extrapolation. But the idea of marriage couldn't have felt more foreign.

He ended up buying it, paying generously for something he wasn't sure he wanted. playing with it in his pocket as he headed back to base. He returned to his bunk, more spacious and quiet than his previous one. He sat on the edge of his mattress, folding his hands as he inclined forward.

He set the ring next to him on the bed as he scribbled down a few notes, one addressed to his mother, the other to Elena. He didn't bother wishing his father any pleasantries, he knew it wouldn't have been appreciated anyway. He wrote to them he was doing well, that the fighting was losing its hostility.

He thought of his mother's plight, how she must've spent hours preparing for their annual Christmas Party. It was one of the grander events she hosted in their family mansion, her greatest hobby. He thought of his callous father, how he would look scold and admonish his mother with whatever she did. He thought of his brother, how Damon would probably wake up the following morning with a grueling hangover after spending the night roaring drunk. He thought of Elena, how she'd spend her day with her surrogate family, smiling demurely, her hair drawn into an intricate style.

He was about to seal their letters, when a loud knock sounded.

"Lieutenant," a deep voice called from behind the door.

Stefan allowed permission for his visitor to enter.

The soldier saluted him, and then handed him a single envelope. He didn't think twice after his underling had taken his leave to open the letter. He had memorized every curve of her pen, every flick and motion of her wrist to make the scrawl on paper appeared the way it did.

His perpetual numbness seemed to dissipate after hearing from her.

Methodically, Stefan bent down to retrieve the burlap sack underneath the bed. With careful hands, he dug out the stack of letters he'd hidden safely between his folded clothes. He had taken it upon himself to collect her letters together, treasure the small items she sent with them as treasures. He thought to discard them, but couldn't do it.

The pile of letters had been tied together with a ribbon. She'd sent it to him after he'd written to her about his promotion, and consequential injuries. She'd written that blue represented a calm, that it had healing qualities. She said she wanted him to recover as quickly as possible, and that he could thank her for the ribbon once he was feeling better.

The cloth was of sleek, soft, satin material, the color a deep and royal shade of sea blue.

The same color as the lapis lazuli on the ring.

**End Chapter 5**

A/N: Please review if you would like me to continue. Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Merry Christmas!

**Chapter 6**

_April, 1945_

He thought of her often.

His mind was a repeating record, spinning on its axis without halting. Thoughts of her plagued his conscious, taking his focus and twisting it to recite the letters she'd written to him. Like a benevolent infection, he would hear what imagined her voice to sound like.

It was so very strange, how close he felt to her. They were half a world apart, strangers who hadn't even the pleasure to meet in person. Yet Caroline Forbes was the only woman in existence who made him feel again.

Sometimes he would write to her before receiving a reply from their previous exchange. He couldn't help the desire to share news with her. He would take his pen and begin to speak to her, as if he'd known her his entire life. And though he couldn't be sure, he had sense that she felt the same way. Their letters were numerous, the excitement of blood rushing through his veins as he read her romantic print on the outside of envelope.

The weeks had turned to months, and the months together into what felt like an eternity. The quarter year turned into a half year, time moved without stopping, and so did the progression of his fondness for her. An experience he'd never thought possible, Stefan found himself falling in love.

He feigned the pretense of friendship, of platonic amiability. It came without warning, the rush of warmth in his chest whenever he heard from her. He would never know quite when it all began, only that he had crossed into dangerous territory.

He was smiling more often now.

The other soldiers who had initially kept their distance began to engage him. Their commanding officer's cold disposition began to melt as they witnessed the grin forming on his lips whenever he received his weekly post.

He felt her the most beautiful being, a marvel of humanity. But that didn't stop his from thinking of what she looked like. This woman, this girl behind these letters. What did her smile look like? What did her laugh sound like?

Her enthusiasm, her strength, her optimism was jarring. She was forceful but soft, outgoing but shy, happy but sad.

He'd memorized which seasons were her favorites, which foods she preferred, the long list of names of pretentious women she worked for. He knew her mother was just as broken as she was, her alcoholic an abusive runaway. He knew that Matt had been the only male she'd ever felt romantically for, he knew of her deep longing for acceptance, her fear of disappointing others, her long journey to please those around her.

He knew she had a harder time letting outsiders in than he did.

He'd never been surer about anything in his entire life. He was undeniably, unmistakably in love with this girl. Besotted, enamored, head over heels in love with a woman he'd never even met.

Maybe that was why it pained him so much to pretend like he didn't.

Because she would never accept him, how could she?

It was in her nature to reach out to others, even in her time of need she managed to put the pieces he'd smashed into back together. The solid fact remained that he was the once good friend of her past lover, the man who let her boyfriend die, just another soldier fighting far away.

She didn't deserve to be a position to either accept of reject him, she didn't deserve to lose anyone else after what she'd been through. The origins of the way he felt about her were a mystery, so how could he expect her to reciprocate them? She wouldn't be able to return what he felt, and their friendship would be lost.

He wanted to freeze this moment in time, but he knew it wouldn't last.

Maybe that was why he decided he was going to stop writing to her.

**-p-**

"Where did you get that ring?"

Her eyes fell to the metal and gem encircling her finger, a constant reminder of a lone soldier thousands of miles away. Her muscles tensed as she curled her hand into a fist in order to hide the ring from immediate sight. But it was too late, it had already been spotted.

"I splurged," the rehearsed lie came out smooth, just as she had practiced. "I bought it for myself,"

She didn't know why, but since the beginning, she'd kept her exchanges with Stefan a secret. When she thought about it rationally, there was nothing wrong about the innocently mutual sending and receiving of letters. But that didn't mean that it felt right, she felt guilty. What was worse was that she didn't know what she was feeling guilty for that she didn't want to tell anyone about it.

"I see," the tanned man sitting across from her nodded, ducking his head and peering up at her through dark shaded sunglasses. It was a sunny day, but they were having lunch inside an indoor café downtown. He seemed tired today, his voice hoarse.

Her attention became captured again by the reminder sitting on her hand, the reminder of another man thousands of miles away. He was a constant presence in her thoughts now.

She'd discovered the small package wrapped in makeshift shipping paper with a familiar letter attached underneath. She didn't quite understand when she found an unusually expensive looking piece of jewelry inside, slipping it onto the base of her finger on a whim.

It was uncanny, how well it fit her. He'd written that it held the same healing color she'd mentioned to him before, and she found the effect of the ring to be just that. Whenever she looked at the ring, it acted as a type of reassurance. She wasn't alone, she had him with her all the time. For some reason, the notion of him by her side was more solace than she'd felt in a long time.

Since the moment she put it on she hadn't found the will to take it off, and that moment had occurred nearly seven months ago.

"You could have asked me to get it for you," Tyler interrupted her reverie, almost sounding angry as he shot her a fierce glare.

Pale blue eyes widened at his growing shortness of temper. Mrs. Lockwood would drawl that Tyler had inherited his inclined aggression from his father, a trait which apparently ran down the Lockwood line. As a student he could always find a reason to fight, and being significantly strong for his age would easily overpower his victim. It often took Matt and the help of other brave boys to intervene. But never had Tyler broken his coolness toward her.

"Are you okay?" Caroline leaned forward, placing a gentle hand on his hand. He just looked at her, an empty stare in his eyes. She tried to read into his expression, when she gasped. "Oh my God, Tyler," she immediately reached forward at his over his sunglasses, pulling them down to reveal the angry purple bruise over his left eye. It was swollen, fresh, excruciating.

He swatted her hand away, pushing his glasses up with urgency.

"I'm fine," he snapped.

"What happened to you?" she whispered lowly, turning around to look at their surroundings. Sure enough, there were men guarding various points of the establishment, stone faced, all watching Tyler with an unfaltering gaze. "Tyler, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he insisted monotonously, a scowl on his face.

"Don't lie to me, Ty," she shook her head.

"I'm fine," he growled.

"Are you in some kind of trouble?"

No answer.

"What's wrong, please talk to me,"

A switch flipped, and he was gone.

Before she could react, he'd already jumped to his feet, his hands pressed flat against the surface of the table. _"Damn it, Caroline!"_ he roared, "Can't we just have a normal lunch?"

Everything went silent after that. The tinkling of glasses, the clatter of silverware and ceramic plates, the loud chatter of fellow diners dying into a low murmur as attention fell to the young man's unprecedented outburst. But no one was as taken aback as Caroline.

She fell frozen onto the back of her chair, she'd never seen him like this before. He was the boyish, trouble making Tyler from her childhood.

She watched wordlessly as Tyler closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths to calm himself. Several members of his entourage had stepped forward, but Tyler had put a hand out to signal he didn't need their assistance. He slumped back, shrinking down into his seat. He bit the inside of his cheek when he removed the sunglasses and finally opened his eyes to look at her again.

"I'm sorry, Care," he apologized, honestly regretful. "I've been on edge lately,"

He paused for a second, "Forgive me?"

The real words caught in the back of her throat, her head bobbing down without thinking.

"Good," he let out a breath of relief, "Good," he repeated simply.

Something told her it wasn't.

**-p-**

_August 15th, 1945_

She'd been minding her own business, going through the mail in search of a certain letter when someone asked her the same question again.

"Where did you get that ring?" a harsh voice came.

Two months had passed, and still no word. At first, she'd brushed it off as a delay on part of the post office, perhaps someone had misplaced her envelope.

So she wrote him again, only to not receive any response. Disappointment would spread over her features, without him she was crawling back into her shell. But she held onto the hope that he hadn't forgotten her, she would gaze on at that ring, he was always on her mind.

"Mom," Caroline let out breathlessly, "You're home early," she hid her hand behind her back.

Liz stood at the entrance of their kitchen, her arms folded as she cocked her head to try and get a better look at what her daughter was hiding. "We finished the paperwork before our deadline, they let me off a couple hours early,"

"Oh," Caroline acknowledged, debating what her best chance at explaining herself would be. The truth seemed an option too far out of reach, she decided to lie again. She held out her hand, so that the ring could be held out in place.

Unlike Tyler, her mother knew she didn't have the extra money to spend on luxury jewelry. If she did, both of them wouldn't have had to work double shifts in order to put food on the table last month.

"Tyler bought if for me," she winced internally at how easily she could deceive her own mother, "An early birthday gift," the lie tasted bitter on her tongue.

Liz didn't suspect anything, too distracted by her answer. Her expression darkened as she approached the younger woman, "About that, we need to talk,"

Caroline's eyebrows met together, not understanding what she meant. She sat down when Liz gestured to the chairs at their dining table.

"Caroline, you know how badly I've wanted for you this past year to move on. You're so young, your life filled with such promise and opportunity. I never wanted you to throw away your future so early on, Matt was a good boy, but you're still here,"

Nothing she hadn't heard before. She nodded slowly as her mother continued.

"But this isn't what I meant," she grabbed Caroline's hand, gesturing to the ring. "Tyler isn't the kind of boy any virtuous woman should find herself acquaintances with. I know he and Matt were friends, but don't you find it strange how readily he is in his pursuits for you?"

"What?" she couldn't digest what she was hearing.

"He gave you a ring, don't be naïve. It's a bold move for a man to buy anything like this for a woman, it paints a pretty colorful picture,"

Now, Caroline had long been aware of the possibility of Tyler's rekindling his feelings for her. His teenage crush on her had extinguished as soon as she and Matt had begun their relationship, it wouldn't have been a stretch to pose that he was still interested.

Little did Liz know she was talking about another man, the man who had really given her the ring.

No, it wasn't possible, it simply wasn't.

"He clearly has strong feelings for you. He's in love with you,"

Was Stefan Salvatore in love her?

But another prospect that left her even more stunned.

Could she be in love with him? The broken boy, the hardened soldier, the friend whose words could lift her spirits, the only man in what felt like ages who couldelicit a laugh through her lips; could she be in love with Stefan Salvatore?

"Are you listening to me?"

Caroline didn't have a chance to answer, as the telephone rang right then. Her mother, by now clearly frustrated at her distraction, stood up answer it. Caroline remained in place, still too surprised in disbelief to move an inch. But she listened as Liz murmured into the phone receiver, she heard her mutter a prayer under her breath.

"Caroline!" she yelled from the living room, "Turn on the radio, will you?" She sounded flustered, maybe even panicked.

Recovering from her short lived shock, the younger woman managed to get up. With fast strides, Caroline rushed past her mother still engaged in what felt like a serious conversation.

Suddenly a loud cheer erupted outside on the street, it was like the entire city had just jumped up to celebrate.

With clumsy movements, Caroline managed to adjust the nodules and nobs on the contraption. Slowly the announcer's words became coherent, his voice deep and exuberant as he reported the one line that America had been waiting four long years to hear.

_'The Axis Powers have agreed to the terms of unconditional surrender, the War is over. Our boys are coming home.'_

**End Chapter 6**

A/N: Lots to take in this chapter, everything moves pretty quickly. So to sum it up, Stefan realizes his feelings and stops writing, Caroline suspects something is wrong with Tyler, she contemplates her own feelings for Stefan, and World War II has been won. This is one of my favorite stories I've written, I wish there were more people reading it. Please review if you want me to continue!

Europe actually surrenders before August 1945, sorry for the historical discrepancies but I glossed over it for purposes of this story.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This is _THE _chapter. Get ready!

**Chapter 7**

_August 16th, 1945_

A young woman was sprawled on top of her desk, her arms tangled together, her cheek resting above as she slept. She sat almost unmoving, her chest heaving slightly with the little breaths she took. Sunlight escaped from the cracks of her drawn curtains and shined brightly against the golden waves of her hair.

Still in her right hand was the dark ink pen, the blank page she'd spent the last night trying to fill completely void.

Caroline didn't know what to write. To describe her emotions at the moment she heard the announcement would have been impossible. Her first instinct was to run upstairs, lock the knob, and speak to him. She wanted to know anything, everything, she just wanted to hear from him again.

Should she have congratulated him? He was on officer in the United States armed forces, it only made sense after such a paramount victory. Her pen ached to write to him again; her heart ached even more to find out what he was planning on doing. Where was he? When was he returning to his home? Was he injured, was that why his letters had ceased?

Had he forgotten her? That possibility brought an unprecedented weight in her chest, she could feel it growing heavier with each growing instant of hesitation.

What made it worse was that if he had, there would be no way of reaching him again. He could always write to her again, her address wouldn't have changed. But his would, the regiment would eventually pull out of Italy, and he would be forever lost to her.

So many questions, yet she couldn't bring herself to put any of them on the line. She ran through her thoughts without pause, the tip of her writing utensil about to form words when she pulled back.

She'd dozed off in the exhausting push and pull, the charge and retreat. She was now unconscious, laid peacefully, unknowing of the disaster waiting for her. The house was empty, quiet.

But then without warning, the door to her room slammed open. A bang sounded as the intruder kicked through the entrance, standing there, watching the flaxen haired beauty stir from her slumber. He panted unevenly, trying to catch his breath.

Alarmed by her rude awakening, her eyes shot open,stinging with slight tears as the bright light hit her pupils. She rubbed her eyelids to brush them away, her back straightening in hopes of turning to her visitor.

Once the pair made eye contact, she wasn't afraid. His vague silhouette was familiar, his presence here was a strange thing, but not scary. But upon more careful inspection, she was suddenly terrified. His eyes were dark, endlessly black. His shoulders were shaking, his head hung low and ashamed. A sense of urgency was communicated through his stare, practically a cry for help.

Tyler. Her headstrong, good natured, and undeniably loyal friend had been reduced to a nervous mess. He wrung his hands together, now unable to look at her. He avoided her gaze and turned his head away, revealing a fresh collection bruises from his sharp jaw line to his collar bone.

She jumped to her feet and she rushed to his side, she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder but he shook her off.

That rare instant of vulnerability had disappeared, and she saw a version of him she'd never come across. He ignored her as he headed to her closet, roughly pulling down the large bag from the top shelf. She stood wordlessly, taken aback by his actions. She watched without uttering a syllable, unsure of what to say.

Tyler made his way to her dresser, emptying the contents of each drawer into the bag.

"What are you doing?" she questioned softly. She kneeled down next to him as he stuffed the remainder of her clothes into the bag. He ignored her. "Tyler—"

He stood up abruptly, almost knocking her over with the strength of his motion. Without explanation, he took hold of her forearm and began leading her out of the room.

But that was where she drew the line.

She pulled her arm out of his grasp. She finally found her voice, surprised by the steadiness of it. "Tyler, what's going on? What are you doing here?"

He shook his head, closing his eyes and tightening his jaw as if to fight away tears. There was no more indication of his weakness when he spoke again. "We need to leave, now," his tone was serious.

Blue eyes flicked to the filled duffel bag he held behind him. She folded her arms, "What's happened,"

His lip curled back in frustration, "Caroline, we don't have time for this. We need to go," He moved forward to grab her again, but she avoided him deftly.

"No," she refused. He'd been keeping something away from her for weeks now. The black eye, his shortness of temper, his secrecy. He was lying to her, she could tell. They'd known each other far too long for him to do this to her. He didn't smile like he used to, he wouldn't crack jokes. She cared for him deeply, he was like family. His pain was her own, and the fact the he was withholding from her made her blood boil.

"The less you know, the better,"

"No," she repeated, unwavering.

"Care," his tone softened a bit with her nickname on his lips, "I'm trying to protect you, understand that. We need to go—"

"Go where?" she cut him off, now frustrated with him for expecting her to go with him without so much as basic information.

"Anywhere you want, Care. There's this guy I know who can get us out of the city."

"Why do we need to leave?"

He didn't answer.

"What's going on, what is all of this?"

He straightened rigidly, debating whether or not to tell her. His father was dead, his mother disappointed, the rest of his colleagues depending on him. She was the only thing in his life that had appreciated him for what he was. Since they were children, she had always been there for him.

Perhaps it was foolish to come here and think that she would follow him blindly. But then again, he couldn't imagine just leaving her here.

He opened his mouth, but before he could form any words, a gunshot rang through the air. The sound of a bullet piercing through a lock came from downstairs. He cursed under his breath. He knew they should have left. He should have thrown her over his shoulder and carried her out protesting. Maybe then she would be safe, maybe then he would be too.

Quickly realizing a decision needed to be made, he removed his jacket.

Caroline stifled a gasp with the back of her hand. Various spots of scarlet red seeped through the white material of his shirt, the wounds looked serious. But more so than his horrifying injuries were the weapons he was carrying in holsters beneath his arms.

Had he carried them all this time since his father passed away? Or had he always possessed them.

He had two guns. Skillfully he removed both of them and jammed a pack of ammunition into one. He walked to her, taking one of her shaking hands into his own and handing her the duffel bag. He then brought his hand down her other arm and placed the firearms into her hand.

The object felt so foreign to her, she almost let it drop to the ground, but Tyler held it firmly in her grasp. "Get out of here, use it only if you need to," he was referring to the gun. Before she could protest he'd already guided her to the window, opening the lock and pushing it open. "Don't you look back. You keep running, get out of the city, run as fast as you can. Promise me that, will you Care?"

"Stop it Ty, you're scaring me,"

The murmuring voices downstairs grew louder. "I swear I'll come back for you, I'll find you," he was whispering so quickly, so urgently. "I love you,"

It caught her off guard, the air knocked out of her lungs and she couldn't breathe. She barely registered what was going on as he pressed his lips across her brow. It was gentle, romantic in his eyes, terribly sad in hers.

"Don't look back,"

Those were the last words he said to her before ushered her out onto the fire escape. He gave her one last lingering look before he slammed the window shut, clicking the lock shut. He took it as a precautionary measure. She might have known him well, but he knew her well enough to know if given the chance, she would come back for him. This way she couldn't enter even if she tried.

Everything went mute. She watched as Tyler turned, his back facing her. She could see he was loading his gun, about ready to walk into the hallway.

She froze, her legs unable to carry her down.

_'Don't look back'_

Tyler's words had been said not even a minute ago, yet they'd repeated themselves in her mind nearly a thousand times over. Another gunshot rang through the air. In a panic, her hands flew forward to pry open the window.

_'Don't look back'_

She didn't want to leave him, but his words were binding. She tried to block the sounds of numerous more rounds of bullets as she made her way down the sidewalk. Her pace quickened to a sprint before she knew it, she was running. She tossed the gun into the bag and zipped it up.

She couldn't call her mother, the police would persecute Tyler for being involved. He'd told her to leave the city. But where was she to go?

**-p-**

_September 1st, 1945_

Stefan stepped forward, thinking about whether or not his body could recognize the U.S. soil beneath his boot. He held a large burlap sack over his shoulder, he stood straight, military. He was decked out in his uniform, he wondered if his family would recognize him.

It was early in the morning, though the sun was beaming exceedingly bright. There were countless other soldiers at the train station, all dressed identically save the extra badge on his breast. They were all joking around, arms around each other's shoulders, laughing like the young men they were supposed to be. It had been like this since his regiment had received news of American victory. Somehow Stefan couldn't bring himself to join the festivities. He was happy the fighting was over, but he couldn't describe exactly why he didn't feel the relief his peers did.

His fellow soldiers were talking about their sweethearts, how excited they were to come back to a land with girls who actually spoke English. Stefan couldn't help but thing of the friend he'd made a year earlier who was more devoted to his girl than any other man before. He couldn't help but think of how that girl would have no sweetheart to hold in her arms.

He couldn't help but think of her.

_"Stefan!" _

A squeal sounded as someone called his name. Stefan turned around, his eyes meeting with those of a slender brunette. Her complexion was a bronzed olive, no doubt enhanced after a summer of drinking in the sun. Her dark, sleek, straight hair fell perfectly down her shoulders and back. She was dressed in a pastel colored dress, its hem resting right above her knee.

Before he could react, he felt her arms enwrap around his neck. Their height difference was well enough so that she was lifted above the ground as he stood straight. Instinctively, though not consciously, came to hold her waist to support her weight.

This was the woman he was supposed to think about. This was supposed to be the girl who filled his mind every waking moment. This was supposed to be _his _sweetheart.

"Oh my God, Stefan," he heard her sob into his collar, "You're back, you're finally back,"

Elena Gilbert was a girl who had grown accustomed to getting what she wanted. Granted, her life hadn't always started out that way. She was the only child to a couple who never got along, a wealthy family whose money dried up. In a tragic automobile accident one stormy night, both her parents were killed. Orphaned at the tender age of fourteen, the young Elena was put into the care of a family in Virginia.

Her new patrons were old friends of her mother's. These people were kind to her; Mrs. Salvatore adored her and treated her like the daughter she always wanted, and Mr. Salvatore was a hardened man consumed by his work, but he tolerated the new child well enough. They had two sons, the elder one tending to his higher education at a university on the border of South Carolina, the younger one still living at home.

She'd fallen in love with Stefan the moment she met him. Unsure and unworthy, he'd helped her come out of her shell. He was reserved and quiet, but observant and always thinking. He loved animals, intelligent with an never ending appetite for more knowledge. She was hiding from his mother one evening when she stumbled into the mansion library. A boy no more than sixteen, he sat there on the leather chair, consumed by the literature he held in his hand.

She could tell that he'd noticed her presence, but he did nothing. She'd been living with his family for nearly a month at that point, but he'd never made an effort to reach out to her. She hadn't spoken to him either, but his serious nature never helped either. She sat down on the couch across from him, grabbing a heavy book off the coffee table and burying her nose into its spine. He paid her no attention as she pretended to read, taking every opportunity to glance up from the text to steal a look at him.

He fascinated her. She'd visited town with Mrs. Salvatore before, every teenage girl in sight swooned over to them asking about her sons. It didn't take very long for Elena to find out that people were more interested in the handsome, eligible, wonderfully smart Salvatore brothers rather than the adoption of a new orphan.

Eventually he'd caught her staring, but didn't reprimand her for it as she had thought he would have. Instead, he grinned at her. He began chuckling. By the time she realized he was laughing at her for holding the book upside down, she was ready to run out of the room. But he had stopped her before she left, asking her if she wanted him to teach her how to read.

She should have been embarrassed for him to ask her such a thing. Of course she knew how to read, she wasn't entirely illiterate. But at that time, she hadn't known how observant Stefan was. He could tell she was having trouble comprehending small written words, and how reluctant she was to begin her schooling in Mystic Falls.

It was then that Stefan Salvatore became Elena's savior. He acted as he protector, he mentor, her everything. He treated her like a little sister, but she knew he was aware of her romantic affections for him. He neither encouraged nor discouraged them. He pretended to be oblivious, though both of them knew he was too perceptive not to have noticed.

She'd been living with the Salvatores for her fifth year when she finally gotten Stefan to react to her advances. She was surprised to find that he accepted her, but ecstatic anyway. He was never cold to her, but she grew paranoid as she realized he was never warm either. Sadly enough, three months into their newfound relationship, Stefan had enlisted.

She wrote to him constantly while he was away. Out of the two years he was gone, he'd only written to her three times. Once on her birthday, and twice on Christmas. Each time, the letters were concise and unemotional. But none of that mattered anymore, because now he was hers again, steady in her arms.

Elena was brought back to reality as she stepped back onto the ground, the heels of her shoes clicking back onto the cobbled stone beneath their feet. As she pulled away from him, she realized how different Stefan looked.

He was just as dashing as he'd always been, but he'd aged drastically. It wasn't a dramatic physical change, it was the look in his eyes. He looked jaded, tired, older. He was always serious, but the youthful happiness and cheer in them were gone. His shoulders looked broader, his stance more unyielding.

"I've missed you," she said as she gazed into the greenish grey hue of his eyes.

"I missed you too," his tone was genuine, but not as longing as she had hoped. "How have you been?" A sudden wave of guilt spread over his features as he remembered how little he bothered to contact her. He knew she was in love with him, he'd known it for quite some time.

His mother had urged him to court her. She always carried a fantasy of marrying Elena into the family, marrying her to Stefan. He'd finally given into his mother's pleas. After all, it wasn't as if the other girls that were any more beautiful, charming, or understanding as Elena.

Well, not any he'd come across before he went to War.

"Good, I've been good," she nodded, smiling and then biting her bottom lip to keep from trembling. She was so happy, she couldn't contain her joy. "You look well," she mentions, hoping to distract from her less than composed state. She'd trained herself to be a lady, the perfect belle worthy of becoming a Salvatore woman.

"Yeah, he looks great," a snarky, sarcastic voice drawled from behind.

Stefan tensed as he recognized who it belonged to. A competitive smile grew across his features as he stepped forward, extending his arm. "Brother,"

A tall man with raven colored hair swept across his forehead glared at Stefan with piercing, icy blue eyes. He approached the pair with his hands in his pockets, reluctantly removing one of them to shake his hand. "Brother," he echoed with equal graveness. "I take it your trip home was good?"

"Yes," he answered tersely.

A tension had settled over the trio, one that always seemed to come around whenever the three youths were together.

"Well I know how much Elena's missed you," the older sibling spoke with contempt, "I'll let you two have a private moment while I go fetch the car,"

"Thank you, Damon,"

Just as Stefan had picked up on Elena's affections for him, he'd also realized Damon's largely unrequited love for the dark haired woman between them.

He walked away, leaving Stefan and Elena alone together. Elena was about to speak up when Stefan remembered he needed to return something to one of his soldiers. He'd borrowed a lighter from one of his underlings on the train ride home and needed to give it back before they left.

"I'll be right back," he turned to Elena, "Stay here,"

As expected, Elena did not protest. She obeyed quietly, watching him disappear into the crowd.

Stefan pushed through the rowdy hoards of men, all of them howling and half saluting him as he made his way. Everyone was happy to be home, to be back in a place that was familiar to them. He dodged through those that recognized him and finally found the man he was looking for. He said his goodbyes and saluted his comrades with respect. For more reasons that one, the War and the people he fought with would be forever unforgettable.

He was ready to turn on his heel and head back to where he'd left Elena, when something caught his eye. Standing alone on a platform was a girl, perhaps about Elena's age. She was shielding the sun's rays from her face, her pale alabaster skin glowing. Her hair was as bright as everything around it, delicately blowing in the wind. She looked around, clearly unsure of where she was heading. By her feet was a large duffel bag, sitting on the ground.

He couldn't really say why, but her image had captivated him immediately. Something about her was drawing him in.

He wasn't the only one. A group of about four soldiers spotted her about the same time he did. Stefan almost pitied her. A pretty girl like her would fall as easy prey to the former military men deprived of female companionship.

Debating for a while, but then deciding it was none of his business, Stefan turned back into the direction he'd come from. He passed the woman, now surrounded by predators of other men. His senses were sharp, he tended to notice things that other people overlooked. The smallest details somehow ended up being the most important.

The blue gem caught in the corner of his eye, twinkling, beckoning him. He stopped dead in his tracks, his heart stopped beating. This was impossible, a mistake, a hallucination.

No.

Before he could properly think of what he was doing, he was standing before her. She was laughing, shying away from the strange men around her. She didn't notice him for who he was, writing him off as just another soldier.

His throat was dry, but he still managed to say it.

"Excuse me," he started, gaining the attention of the few beside him.

She looked up at him, blue orbs making contact with green grey. Something about the way she paused made him think she recognized him too.

He'd never seen a photograph of her before. She'd never mentioned that she was blonde, never stated that she had blue eyes, never said she was quite so breathtakingly beautiful. But somehow, he knew it was her. More than intuition, he'd never been more sure about something in his life.

"Where did you get that ring?"

Her gaze retracted as she brought her hand down from her forehead, examining the lazuli and silver as if she never realized she'd been wearing it.

He could see the same thoughts were running through her head. Impossible, a mistake, a hallucination. But she had the further advantage as she looked from him to the writing embroidered on his uniform. Her mouth parted slightly, dark pink lips unable to form the words she meant to.

It didn't matter that there were others around them. They didn't care. Everyone besides the two of them seemed to disappear, their presences insignificant.

She was smiling up at him, shaking her head in disbelief.

He was the first one to speak up after that. He cleared his throat, finding he had a smile of his own one his lips.

_"Miss Caroline Forbes,"_

It wasn't a question, but a reassurance.

Truly a circumstance of the unexpected. He had never heard her voice either, but when he did he swore it was magical.

"Mister Salvatore,"

And thus their story truly began.

**End Chapter 7**

A/N: What did you think? I was thrown a bit off from writing Steroline after the whole Klaus and Caroline interaction in recent episodes of TVD. I've decided that I love both pairings, and have considered adding some Klaroline into 'Letters to You'. How would you feel having the addition of Klaus in this story? Thanks for reading! Please review if you want me to continue.


	8. Chapter 8

**Letters to You: Part II**

_The War is over, and a return to normalcy is called upon. Stefan and Caroline are united at last, learning more and more about the other under trying circumstances. With the past catching up and danger looming ahead, the relationship they had built beginning nearly a year ago is tested. It takes courage to love someone, but even more to admit it. _

**Chapter 8**

He was grinning ear to ear.

Like a schoolboy ready for a grand adventure, he sat there unable to conceal his utter delight. A steady beat hit within of his chest, and he couldn't pry his eyes away from her image.

Poised, delicate, and wonderfully bright.

Her blonde hair framed her visage like a shining halo, her red lips pressed together in nervousness, her deep blue eyes which strangely matched that of the jewel on the ring he'd gifted her months ago. She sat opposite of him at the small glass table, her profile turned towards him as she gazed out the large paned window beside them.

Through all of the mistakes, the verbal stumbling, he'd managed to convey his intention to speak to her. His legs felt drained of their strength as he retrieved her bag off the ground and led her to a nearby teashop. All of it was so alien, but somehow still so right.

The silence was quiet, but not awkward. It was comfortable, almost a necessary period for reality to sink in.

Caroline took a sip from her glass of water, careful not to make too abrupt of eye contact. She tried to steady her other hand beneath the table, clenching it into a tight fist in hope to stop it from shaking. After leaving Tyler that morning, she did her best to follow his pleas. She'd hailed herself a taxi and took a train out of Penn Station. Her head was spinning, she'd never been quite so reckless in her life.

She looked at the multitude of potential destinations. She couldn't make up her mind, she rarely traveled, only leaving the city itself on seldom occasion. She didn't know what was happening, she didn't know what to do. There was only one person in the world she felt she could talk to, only one person who get her through this.

That was when she recalled the little idyllic southern town he'd written to her about. She didn't think twice after that, boarding the train last minute only moments before it departed.

And now here she was, in front of the man she'd known for a year now.

And here he was, in the flesh.

"How old are you?" the words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them. He had meant for it to be repeated in his head, not aloud.

At his question, she tilted her head. She considered her answer, laughing lightly at his attempt to recover from his abrupt and somewhat strange question.

"No," he stopped himself, holding his hands out in front of him. He cleared his throat, "I was simply wondering, you look much younger than I had imagined,"

Much younger indeed. He knew that he and Matt were of around the same age, but from the sheer strength and courage Caroline had shown in her letters, he'd assumed that she was in more literally matured. Age might have just been a number, but her youth struck him down in awe. The fact of how she'd handled the tragedy placed upon her with such grace and vigor left him in endless admiration. He was surprised to see how

Upon her quiet reaction, he tried to rectify his speech again. "Not that you look like a child, only that—"

A light tinkling laugh cut him off. He raised his gaze and saw her smiling at him. His heart skipped a beat as they made eye contact, he didn't know why but she remedied an awkward situation with a simple giggle. He found himself grinning again, musing at his own gaffe.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, shaking his head and leaning against the back of his chair, "I guess your arrival has just caught me a little off guard. I wasn't expecting to see you so soon,"

In truth, he hadn't been expecting to see her at all. He'd forced himself to cut his ties with her after he stopped writing back. She deserved better than what he had to offer, that much was apparent. He was afraid of what she would say after discovering the affections he'd surreptitiously harbored for her all those months.

He didn't want to make his feelings evident, not here and now. They were friends who had helped the other out in a difficult time, and he owed it to her not to bring her down with his own emotions.

"I'm nineteen," she said simply. She shot him a coy look, "How old are you?"

Women weren't supposed to be this bold, but she somehow managed to pull it off with charm.

"Twenty-two," he answered back a bit more rigidly, though still thoroughly amused by her boldness.

"Stefan Salvatore," she extended her hand across the table, "We finally meet at last," the ends of her lips were still curved upwards.

Debating in his head but never hesitating, he raised his hand to clutch hers. The normal introductory handshake seemed so strange after knowing her so well, for so long. But it was a required formality nonetheless. "Miss Caroline, it's a pleasure,"

A waitress arrived at the side of them with a tray of their beverages. Stefan thanked her as she left them alone again, and went on ahead preparing their drinks. He was busying himself remembering the ratio of tea to sugar when he opened his mouth again. "What brings you to Virginia?"

"Travel," she answered a little too quickly. She bit her bottom lip, thinking it might have sounded a little too rehearsed. She took a deep breath before continuing, "You always mention your hometown in your letters. I've never been to the South, so I was thinking there would be no better place to start,"

He found her explanation somewhat strange. "Surely you're not traveling alone?"

Stefan thought of how easily she had almost succumbed to the mobs of soldiers down at the station. He knew she wasn't being accompanied by anyone, or she would have mentioned it by now. But for some reason, he wanted to hear it from her lips. He liked listening to her speak, it was soothing.

"I am," she replied as she watched his hands slide her cup and plate over in her direction. "Thank you," she leaned forward to take the cup when their hands made contact again. His touch was not intentional, but it sent a jolt through her arm. She would have pulled away, but she didn't want to. She coughed lightly as she picked up where she had left off, "My mother couldn't come with me, she's been pulling long hours, she's hoping to gain some proper recognition in her department," At least that part wasn't a lie.

Liz Forbes had spent years forging a proper reputation within the law enforcement community. Most of her colleagues hardly considered her a cop, they saw her as nothing more as a secretary. In a city as progressive as New York, one would be surprised with what little gains women had made in society.

Caroline deliberately omitted parts of the truth, keeping the details away from Stefan. He was her confidante, she knew that. But she didn't want to risk putting Tyler in more risk that he already was. She didn't know of her old friend's fate, but she still clung to the hope that he was all right.

"So you came all the way here on your own?"

It was no short journey between her home and his. He knew she was an independent and self reliant soul, and he respected that. But that didn't mean he didn't immediately worry for her wellbeing and safety. He didn't want to risk sounding too much like the voice of his father's generation, but in all honesty he didn't think hopping along the railroad was an appropriate style of tour for a young lady.

"Yes,"

"How long will you be staying here?"

She stopped, never having gotten this far in her plans. Caroline thought she would have had a few more days to gather her story together. She never would have imagined arriving on the same day and time as Stefan. "I'm not sure,"

That struck him as odd, but if it bothered him he didn't show it. "Do you know where you'll be staying?"

Tyler had placed a small amount of cash in her duffel bag, but most of those funds went toward paying her ticket here. She didn't know the exact amount she had left, but she knew it would not have lasted her for very much longer. She turned her torso toward the window again, "I think I saw a sign for a hotel a few blocks over in the square…"

"Stay with me," he offered suddenly.

Immediately her eyes snapped back to him. "What?" she asked breathlessly, clearly flustered.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head slightly. "I mean stay with me and my family. It can be a bit embarrassing how my mother insists I still live with my parents, but it can also be convenient to invite house guests. Our home has more than enough rooms to accommodate one girl with one bag," he eyed the duffel bag he'd helped her carry to the café.

"Oh," she thought for a moment. Despite having yet to admit to herself that she had come here explicitly with the reason to find Stefan, she still understood the opportunity.

"Caroline," he said to get her attention, "It's the least I can do after everything you've done,"

While Stefan did believe in helping her, he was also extended the invitation for his own selfish intentions. He'd just barely met her, he wanted to see more of her. She had said it herself, that the duration of her stay was indefinite. He wanted to take advantage of the time she would be staying there.

"I won't take no for an answer," he stated at last, half serious. "I won't be working for the next couple of weeks while I get resettled at home. I can show you around,"

"My personal guide?" she mused.

"If you would allow me to be,"

She thought for a moment. Accepting the offer would be sound and responsible. She didn't know how long she would have to stay hidden, Tyler hadn't mentioned the specifics of her 'disappearance'. Surely it couldn't be too long, her mother would worry. It occurred to Caroline how anxious her mom would be at that moment.

She wanted to call, just a short conversation to assure Liz that she was alive and well. She wouldn't reveal anything about her location, it would be quick.

"Alright," she agreed at last. She watched as his expression lightened.

"Good, it's a plan," he beamed triumphantly.

"Before we leave, would it be alright if I use the telephone?"

"Sure," Stefan stood up, looking over to the corner of the small tea shop. "If my memory serves me correctly, there should be one just down the hallway," he pointed over.

"Thank you," Caroline rose to her feet, running her hands over the hem of her skirt to smooth out any wrinkles. She began walking forward when she felt Stefan following her to accompany her. She turned around without warning, not aware of how close he was. She lost her breath as she nearly collided with his chest, then aware of how much taller he was than her.

She'd played it out in her subconscious many times over, their first meeting. All she knew about Stefan was his heart of gold, his protectiveness over the people he loved, and his integrity. Those were all attractive qualities on their own, so she never expected him to be so handsome.

The aesthetic appeal couldn't be overlooked, and dressed in his uniform she couldn't help but think of him as dashing. The combination of his pronounced jaw line and cryptic green grey eyes were undeniably pulling her in. She stared up at him, unable to move for a moment.

"Sorry," he apologized quietly, deceptively calm. He took a step backward to allow her appropriate personal space. "Are you alright?" he asked, seeing her still frozen in place.

"I'm fine," she let out. She didn't dare make eye contact immediately, keeping her eyes on her shoes. "If it's okay, could I make this phone call on my own?"

She didn't want Stefan to overhear her telling her mother that she wasn't dead. He would pick up on the truth instantaneously, and then she would be exposed. If Tyler was still alive, she didn't want to risk it. Who knew who or what would come after her in hopes of finding him too?

"Of course," Stefan replied. "I'll wait for you here until you're finished," he gestured to the table they'd been sitting at.

She gave him a gratuitous glance before heading in the direction he'd said earlier.

Stefan watched her retreating back as the distance between them grew further and further with her every step. It sounded insane, he knew it did. They'd only just officially met, but he didn't feel comfortable not being by her side. And as their bodies nearly crashed together moments earlier, he enjoyed it. Having her so close felt nice.

As she turned the corner and she had left his line of sight, Stefan sighed and dropped down into his chair. He ran a rough hand through his hair, trying to decipher the inscrutable reason for why his heart was still beating so quickly. He couldn't calm it down.

Caroline found the telephone sitting on a small table against the hallway wall. It looked a little more dated than the phones in the city, but it would work all the same. She picked up the receiver and placed it gently against her ear, waiting for the young phone operator on the other end to pick up.

"How may I help you?" a cordial female voice came.

She answered with her old apartment address. The woman complied and connected her, any shortly after she heard the phone line ring. The buzz came steadily in her ear, when she heard a familiar voice on the other end.

"Hello?" Liz asked, her voice dreary and tired.

Overcome by a sudden rush of emotion mixed between guilt and happiness, Caroline quickly clamped her hand over her mouth. She didn't want the first thing her mother to hear to be her sobbing.

"Hello?" he mom echoed, unaware of her daughter on the other end.

Caroline quickly collected herself and took a deep breath, "Mom?" she asked, in a meek and timid tone.

She could hear the immediate change in Liz, "Caroline, is that you?" she sounded incredulous. Caroline could picture the evolution of expression on her mother's face. It would turn from surprise, to thankfulness, and then to vehement anger.

"Hey, it's me,"

"Oh my god," she gasped, "Oh thank god. Caroline, where have you been?"

"Are you okay?" Caroline asked. The thugs that had come that morning to find Tyler wouldn't likely have stuck around to wait for a member of the police force to show up. With all the evidence and shell casings that were simply used to gun down their front door, they would have ran the first sign of her. But then again, one could never be too sure. "How are you?"

"Caroline, where are you?"

It was like they were both having two different conversations at the same time.

"Have you heard anything from Tyler?"

There was no answer, she could picture her mother thinking of a way to say it.

"Mom?"

"I thought you had run off with Tyler, there have been no sightings of either of you in the entire state,"

Caroline closed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath. "I love you,"

"Caroline, stop this right now. Where are you? I'm going to come get you—"

"I love you, and I'll call you soon," Caroline didn't wait very long before she ripped the phone from her ear and slammed into the receiver. She was panting from the strain of their discussion.

By the time her breathing slowed, Caroline was leaning on the wall behind her for support. As much as she tried, she couldn't help but feel as if there was still some looming danger. Her mom had said that no one had seen Tyler at all. Maybe that meant he got away, or maybe it meant that he'd been murdered. With the latter possibility, she didn't want to think about it.

All of it was too surreal, in fact the past month had been like a dream.

The nightmare of running out of the apartment, boarding a train, coming here not knowing what to expect. But at what was feeling like the end of the tunnel, there was Stefan. He made her feel safe, he made her feel normal again. He was a consistency that didn't leave, and she was thankful that he hadn't forgotten her.

She'd feared that she was not nearly as significant to him as he was to her. She didn't ask why he hadn't responded to the letters she sent the last few months of the war. He _hadn't_ forgotten her, and that was all that mattered.

Patting gently on her eyelids and making sure they weren't red and swollen, she was about to turn on her heel and head back out to Stefan again. But a shadowy figure stopped her before she could get there.

Piercing light blue eyes and black hair to match, a man leaned against the wall. "Well, well, what do we have here?" He took a step closer, she instinctively took one backwards.

Meanwhile only a few yards away, Stefan glanced down at his watch to check the time. But instead of finding his usual timepiece, he found his bare wrist. His eyebrows narrowed, as he recalled having had it on the train ride here. He pondered the last place he had put it when he felt the female presence before him.

Thinking it was Caroline returning back, he looked up and was about to greet her with a smile. But in her place instead, stood another girl. She had her arms folded self consciously over her chest, she dropped the very object he'd been searching for on the table before him.

"You left it with me at the station," she stated coldly.

"Elena," he started, wincing to himself as he remembered what had happened. He'd removed his watch and handed it to her before running through the crowd to return a lighter to one of his underlings. But on his way back he'd gotten distracted, and then he saw Caroline and took her here.

"You told me you would be right back," she sounded more hurt than angry. She took a deep breath before she went on, "You never did, so Damon and I went looking for you. I wasn't expecting to find you here." She eyed the teapot and two empty cups sitting on the surface of the table, she narrowed her stare. "Don't you hate tea?"

"Yes, brother," came another dreaded voice, "I thought you were much too busy fighting a war to develop a taste for such a drink,"

"Stop, Damon," Stefan warned.

"But you must have had a lot of free time while you were away. Discovering a love for something new doesn't happen overnight," he smirked smugly. "Isn't that right? I mean who knew you could make a pretty little friend while you were away,"

Stefan opened his mouth to retort, but his words caught at the back of his throat as Damon stepped aside and revealed Caroline standing behind him. The unsuspecting blonde wordlessly observed the unfolding scene, unsure of what was going on. She tried to make heads and tails of it, but remained largely unsuccessful.

Elena mimicked the same expression. Both females looked toward the pair of siblings for answers.

At the time, it had seemed like the perfect plan to have Caroline stay in the Salvatore mansions while she was here. But then he realized exactly who would be staying there too.

If Caroline thought her journey so far had been a nightmare, she had another thing coming. This was only the beginning.

**End Chapter 8**

A/N: This chapter is the first taste. I'm splitting 'Letters to You' into different parts. The summary at the top will be a little preview of what is to come in future chapters. If you want me to continue writing for this story, please leave a review.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I know it's been a while, but here's the next installment.

**Chapter 9**

The trip back to the Salvatore residence could only be described as a combination of tension and discomfort. The car ride was unbearably quiet, only the occasional cough or hum of the engine to fill the silence. The two brothers sat in the front, leaving the two ladies in the backseat alone in one of the most awkward experiences either of them could remember.

Elena wasn't quite as naïve as everyone made her out to be. The moment she saw the blonde girl standing there in the teashop, the wind had been knocked out of her lungs. Call it a woman's inherent intuition, but Elena was sure the glance shared between Stefan and his new _friend _had lingered for an instant too long. She saw the protective look in the boy's eyes when she and his older brother had confronted her. She saw the look of trust the other girl had directed toward him too.

How was this even possible?

It certainly wasn't fair.

Stefan had introduced the trio, not knowing what else to do in the situation. All of them shook hands and no more explanations were given. Call it a woman's intuition, but Elena could spot the air of romance between the couple. Without having to turn around, she could almost see the satisfaction spreading across Damon's cocky face.

It didn't take an intellectual mastermind to fit the pieces together. A devastated soldier and a heartbroken girl, they were like characters from another forlorn novel. There had been a reason why Stefan's letter were so few and far between, and that reason had been Caroline Forbes.

But the brunette girl was determined to make sure that she made no apparent sign of her distress. While she wanted to interrogate further the situation, and smack the satisfaction off of Damon's face, she remained composed. She smiled, croaked out a polite 'hello', and was nothing short of courteous.

Caroline had been off no better. First she had been cornered in the back of the café by a stranger, then so unceremoniously thrown into the chaos of it all. She had known about Damon's antics long before, what from Stefan's occasional mentions of his insufferable elder sibling. It was the confrontation with a certain dark haired beauty that left an unexplainable bitterness.

Stefan had never written Elena's name at all. In fact, had it not been for the abrupt encounter, she wouldn't have existed at all.

He hadn't spoken a word to her since ushering her into the automobile, placing a reassuring but ambiguous hand on her shoulder as he guided her into her seat. Thoughts and inscrutable emotions were running through his head, he wasn't sure how he was to handle the current circumstances. He was sure Caroline was desperate for some kind of an explanation, but he couldn't bring himself to give one.

"Here we are," Damon announced sarcastically as they pulled in, "Home sweet home,"

A slight gasp escaped Caroline's lips, her eyes widening at the striking scene before her. The car came to a slight halt at the overreaching iron gate that fronted the large estate. The rural Southern landscape seemed to intensify around them. The late afternoon sun was waning in strength, the pinkish orange light setting in the open sky. Verdant and lush trees loomed over the paved pathway on both sides , their leaves blowing slightly in the warm and comfortable breeze. And despite the distance, the outline of Salvatore Manor still stood out against the horizon.

The image was intimidating, and she couldn't understand how she hadn't suspected it before.

She twisted the lazuli ring on her finger, only now realizing that only a young man from money could afford such a lavish jewelry piece. Stefan was well spoken, well read, and well educated. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to find out that his family only sought the most expensive schooling for their prized son.

Damon pressed the breaks and shifted the gear, turning back to the brown haired girl, "Elena, be a doll and show the girl to her room. I imagine she's eager to get settled in," His pale blue eyes flicked to the Caroline, and the apprehension in her gaze caused him to smirk.

"Of course," Elena replied, but even her soft and normally soothing voice could not mask the stiffness of a forced response, "I'd love to,"

She hated how much Damon seemed to enjoy her plight.

Without having to be asked, Stefan promptly exited the passenger seat and slammed the door behind him. As if by habit, he turned and opened the car door and allowed the two women to exit. Elena stepped out and gracefully rose to her feet, carefully keeping the hem of her skirt atop her knees.

Caroline faltered for a short moment before following in suit.

Spotting her hesitation, Stefan instinctively reached for her hand and guided her way. A mild shock ran through her arm at his touch, but she gladly accepted his help. When her feet were both securely planted on the ground outside, he cleared his throat. She tried to avoid his line of vision, not sure of how she should have been feeling about the current situation.

For some reason, it felt like Stefan had more to hide from her than she initially expected. From Elena to his history of wealth, there was suddenly another side to him she was unfamiliar with. He didn't release her hand, so she pulled away for him.

His eyebrows knitted together, just as puzzled as she was. Before now, Caroline had been an isolated aspect of his life. Untainted and beautiful, he worshipped everything about her. But throwing her into an environment, literally so close to home, he couldn't decide where she fit in.

He opened his mouth to say something, but his older sibling's stopped him before he could.

"Stefan, let's go already. I don't have all day," Damon rested his hands on the steering wheel while he rolled his eyes at the sickening display of sentiment. His brother was always more removed and aloof when it came to women. It was strange in him to show concern in any female that wasn't their mother or Elena. He didn't know the whole story behind Stefan's relationship with Caroline Forbes, but he was willing to bet that there was more to her than met the eye. Caroline was special, at least to Stefan, and sooner or later Damon would find out why.

"It's okay, Stefan," Elena stepped forward, "I'll take care of her," she reassured.

"Right," Stefan coughed, turning his body toward the light hared woman, "I'll see you at dinner," He scanned her eyes for any sign of how she was feeling, but found none.

Caroline forced a small smile, "I'll see you at dinner," she repeated back.

He simply nodded, acknowledging that the place he'd put her under were less than ideal. With that, he backed away and returned to the vehicle. Damon winked in their direction one last time, earning an exasperated sigh from Elena. The pair of brothers drove away slowly, leaving the two women alone.

Both of them let out a breath, unsure of how to handle the situation at hand.

"Come," Elena moved forward first, liking her arm with the Caroline's. It was a friendly and warm gesture, one of close companions rather than strangers who'd only just met. "We have much to prepare before Mr. and Mrs. Salvatore return for the evening,"

Her strained heart twisted inside itself, folding and wilting as if constricting too tightly to function. She felt like it had been ripped right out of her chest, the wound still raw and real with pain.

But it wouldn't be the first time she'd put on an air of decorum and grace to escape the reality that was. So the two girls headed into the intimidating structure that stood ominously before them. Boundaries were about to be crossed, and hell was going to break loose.

There was no going back, not now.

**-p-**

"Here," Elena pulled an array of beautiful dresses from her closet, "You can borrow something of mine tonight," She set the pieces of clothing on the large bed in the middle of the lavish room.

Caroline seemed trapped in a perpetual state of awe. The high ceilings, grand chandeliers, marble floors, winding staircases, dark oil paintings, and priceless antiques, such a display of opulence had never made her feel so out of place. While she might have catered to some of New York's most demanding and heavily pocketed clients in the past, none of them could even begin to compare to the Salvatores.

This kind of money would take generations to accumulate. Old money.

"I think you would look lovely in red," Elena commented, holding a scarlet colored number against Caroline's body, "It never suited me, but it compliments your palette perfectly,"

They had already visited the guest quarters in which Caroline would live for the duration of her stay. There were a number of rooms that lines the sides of the long hallway, but it just happened that Stefan's was only two doors down. Whether it was pure coincidence or luck, she couldn't decide.

When Tyler had shoved all of her belongings into the duffel bag, he hadn't thought of Caroline needing to attend any formal events. She was left with an abundance of casual skirts and blouses, with little else to dress up.

One word of it, and Elena was up in arms. She took Caroline's arm again and led her to her own room only yards away.

"Do you like it?" Elena questioned, her warm brown orbs making contact with blue. "I'm sorry," she stepped back, "If you prefer a different dress, there are plenty of other choices—"

"No," Caroline stopped her, "No, this one's perfect. Thank you," she reached for the hanger and held it up to herself. "You certainly have an eye for this kind of thing, Elena,"

The brunette couldn't help but smile at the compliment. It was strange, how awful their initial encounter had started. But somehow, the more time they were spending together, both were beginning to realize how well they were finding to get along.

"Alright," she agreed, "I'll let you get changed into that, and I'll go get you a pair of shoes to go with it,"

With that, she turned around and headed away, glossy dark tresses swinging behind her as she walked. When she was gone, Caroline finally let out the breath she didn't know she was holding.

Never in her life had she felt so out of place, like she was going to contaminate or dirty the opulence of this vast home with her plebian self. Everything was put in place, spotless and gleaming, polished and shined. This might have been the Southern region of the United States, but she felt like she was on the other side of the planet.

Caroline smoothed the soft fabric of the new dress she'd been handed. It reminded her of the extravagant gowns that sat in the stock windows of the stores back in New York. She never thought she would be able to hold such a piece in her hands.

It was beautiful, just like the rest of this place.

A low knock sounded on the door, a soft and cordial voice calling from behind. "Ma'am, is everything alright?"

Slowly, the door began to open. But it wasn't Elena on the other side, but a chocolate skinned young woman with her hair neatly pulled back in a bun, her limbs covered modestly by the maid uniform she donned. Light ember eyes looked ahead at the blonde girl.

"Excuse me for the intrusion, but Miss Elena has instructed me to give you these," in her hands were a pair of stylish black heels, new and in perfect condition. "Miss Elena is busy getting herself ready, and didn't have time to come back. She sent me here to help you in her place,"

"Oh, thank you," Caroline breathed, not knowing how to react. "What's your name?"

The home was so clean she should have guessed that the Salvatores had employed an army of workers to keep the estate running smoothly.

"Bonnie," she answered tersely.

"Nice to meet you, Bonnie," Caroline extended her hand, "I'm Caroline,"

It was comforting, to see someone else who didn't white fit in with the lavish surroundings. Though pretty, Bonnie looked plainer than the stunning Elena. The maid looked to come from humbler beginnings, something Caroline immediately related to.

"Pleasure to meet you too, Miss Caroline," she reached out and shook her hand, "We should probably get started, there isn't much time until we need to go downstairs,"

"Of course," the blonde agreed, shifting slightly so that she could sit on the seat in front of the small vanity along the far wall. As Bonnie helped come through her golden halo, she watched the darker skinned girl's reflection.

"Don't worry," Bonnie assured, sensing the other girl's unease, "You're going to look beautiful,"

**-p-**

"You look absolutely divine!" an older woman, slim statured and gray haired, exclaimed. She had her torso wrapped in a silk top, the light material flattering her maintained figure. She was in her late forties, though the time treated her wonderfully. Her grey green eyes sparkled as she admired the young girl in front of her. "Oh, one look at you tonight and Stefan won't dare leave your side ever again!" she gushed.

Elena bowed her head bashfully, as she did whenever someone paid her a compliment. "Thank you, Beth. You don't think it's too much?" she gestured to the dark green dress. It was more fitted than the rest of her outfits, a tad more revealing too. Her conservative taste usually dictated her attire, but this night was different. She wanted to look special, beautiful.

The two females stood together in the grand foyer by the main entrance of the mansion. Their noises echoed throughout the large space, bouncing off the walls and returning back. They were under the staircase that led to the second floor, the steps winding up and leading to the rest of the building.

"Not at all," Elizabeth Salvatore gave a warm hearted smile as she put a reassuring hand on the other woman's shoulder. "I'm sorry, I couldn't stop Giuseppe from rushing to his study the instant we returned. God knows my husband loves his own work too much,"

"It's not an issue," Elena replied, pushing her glossy straight hair over her shoulder. She was a bit disappointed her adopted father hardly bothered to join in on family affairs. She had hoped he would make more of an effort to be involved, for Stefan and Damon's sake at least. The relationship between father and sons had taken a turn for the worse after the younger sibling had enlisted.

"He did promise to be back by the time dinner was ready. Oh, but you know men, always so focused on themselves to think about other trivial matters. They're never quite so familiar with the sentiment of women,"

"Yes," Elena agreed softly.

"Speaking of which, where are my boys? I get home and neither of them have the manners to greet me in my own home,"

"Beth," Elena broached, just now realizing the likeliness that Stefan failed to mention his new 'friend' to his mother. As giddy as Damon appeared to be at Caroline's arrival, it was safe to assume that no one had any idea of her existence in the first place. "I need to tell you something, before the evening begins. Today when we went to get Stefan from the station—"

"Mother, is that you? You're home earlier than I thought," a pompous and overly affectionate voice came from down the hall. Damon strutted down, intentionally interrupting the conversation he'd overheard. He didn't bother waiting for a response before approaching his mother and placing a polite kiss on her cheek.

"Damon, dear," she put her hand on her older son's face, realizing for the thousandth time over again how much taller he'd gotten. He might have outgrown her in height by the time he was fourteen, but forever he would remain the sweet and caring little boy he had been throughout his childhood. As aware of his antics as she was, she couldn't stop herself from loving him even if she tried. "Where are your manners?" Beth chastised, "First leaving me to wonder about your whereabouts, and dropping in on a conversation without proper notice. Elena was in the middle of saying something, weren't you?"

Both sets of eyes set on the brunette.

"Of course, mother. I apologize for my rudeness, I must be overly excited about tonight," His Cheshire grin made Elena burn with anger. He was scheming, it was written all over his face. "But whatever she was telling you, I'm sure it could wait. After all, Stefan came back with some news of his own,"

Beth raised an eyebrow, already sensing the tension between them.

Another presence joined them in the foyer.

"Mother," another familiar tone called out, a bit more exasperated and glad than his elder brother's.

"Oh, Stefan!" she shrieked, before rushing over and giving the lighter haired son a tight and welcoming embrace. "You look well!" she noted, before pausing, "A little thin, but we can fix that,"

Just like Elena had observed at the station, she could sense a slight difference in his attitude. The way he carried himself, it wasn't the manner of a young and adventurous boy looking for a rush of adrenaline, but of a weary soldier ready to come home.

Beth was never fond of crying. She prided herself on her reputation of a strong matriarch, only submitting to her husband in matters she could not win. She ruled over her family with a protective, provided a bit controlling, hand. But at this moment, tears of joy pricked her eyes.

"Oh, you're safe and home. That's all that matters,"

"You look well too, Mother," Stefan smiled sadly. He knew his mother had worried over his health while he was away. He was guilty of many things over the past two years, but leaving his mother in an ailing state of distress and despair was one of the greater ones that plagued his conscience. "But, um," he faltered, "I have something to tell you,"

"Oh anything," Beth swatted her hand in the air. She doubted anything he had to say would hold any significance right now. Their family was reunited, about to become whole again. Everything would play out like they had planned before Stefan was shipped off to Europe. "Don't be so stiff and relax."

Stefan would take over and succeed the family fortune and company. Being the only other person that carried any weight with Damon, Stefan would persuade his the older Salvatore sibling to move back and make the mansion his permanent residence once more. He would make amends with Giuseppe, and relive the eternal stress and tension in the home. He would marry Elena, officially joining them all together.

Beth was so elated, that she could barely comprehend the information that was about to be revealed to her.

"Mother," his expression was sober. And with the same grey green eyes he'd inherited from her, he pleaded for clemency and understanding. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

Elena and Damon seemed isolated and removed, watching the scene play out in front of them.

Unsteady steps clicked on the floor, the sound of stilettos making contact with the marble tiles consuming them all. Beth's eyebrows met together in confusion, until she looked up at the stairs that led down toward them.

A vision in crimson red, a strange girl with flaxen gold hair walked down tentatively. She walked with clumsy movements, her light blue eyes trained on the ground, focused on maintaining her balance. Her eyes weren't dull or afraid, but so present and aware of the time that was passing by.

Stefan went to her aid, placing his guiding hand on the small of her back, leading her toward the older woman.

"I'd like to introduce you to Miss Caroline Forbes. I've invited her to stay here with us,"

And just like that, Damon swore he saw the dreams of what her golden son and the life she'd planned come crashing down.

Caroline wasn't accustomed to Stefan's touch, but she didn't retreat from him. She didn't dare make eye contact, fearing it would only cause her to fall apart. She couldn't describe for sure what it was she felt whenever he was so close by. With the situation at hand, she decided it was the better decision to push that conflict to the corners of her mind and figure out what was going on. She fought the intrepid voice repeating over and over within her. She didn't belong here, she knew she didn't. The glamour of it all was too intimidating, and the temptation to go home was stronger than ever. To return to her cozy little apartment, to wait for her mother to return late from work, to enjoy her appointments with Tyler.

She was far from her normal, far from any place she ever thought she would end up. She almost wanted to bring herself to be angry with Stefan, to blame his charm for overshadowing the heavy reality he helped her escape. She wished he could have told her something earlier, something that would have prevented her from coming here in the first place.

Yet somehow, through all of her homesickness and insecurity, she didn't want to leave. A surge of comfort and safety washed over her as she felt his warm hand behind her, a sensation she hadn't felt since Matt had been alive and in her arms. To go would mean to leave Stefan, to suppress all of what she'd inadvertently stumbled upon. Matters were going to become more convoluted, more complicated than anything she could have conjured beyond the bounds of her imagination. She was afraid, yes. But she was even more restless to see through the potential of what she expressed and found in the letters they'd exchanged.

What their relationship would blossom into, time could only tell.

Nonetheless, the girl who had played it safe her entire life was willing to take a risk. To tread in uncharted territory, where the outcome could come dreadfully painful, she was putting it all out on the line.

Caroline blinked and saw past Beth's shoulder, reading Elena's lips and helpful tip. She sent her a grateful look before lowering her head, tilting her chin slightly down.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Salvatore," she uttered cautiously.

Stefan was stone faced, not wanting to reveal too many of the thoughts that ran through his mind. Elena watched in anticipation, as Damon tried to ignore the elbow jabbing in the ribs reminding him to wipe his smirk off his face. Caroline waited for a reply, succumbing to the pressure and suddenly sweltering heat.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Miss Forbes," an inquisitive quality marked her features. No questions, no explanations. Just pure acceptance, for now. "I hope you'll enjoy your time here,"

**End Chapter 9**

A/N: Again, thank you for all of the feedback. Each and every response really makes my day. If you want me to continue, please review!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

It was getting dark out, the warm Virginia summer sun setting behind a flat horizon. Orange and pinkish light stood out against the shadows of various tall trees on the estate. Caroline felt the slight breeze against her skin, her eyelids closing for a bit to savor the sensation.

Neither of them uttered a word as Stefan guided her around his familiar childhood hideaway. They had made their way through the lush and colorful garden behind the house, around the horse stables out back, and into the all consuming and giant forest a half mile away from the house.

The past hour had sobered the couple, and both felt the need for some solitude.

"How is your hand?" Caroline asked, stopping in place as they reached a small clearing. It was nice, peaceful out here. Growing up in the bustling city, she seldom had the opportunity to be so close to nature. Crickets began to chirp louder and the wind seemed to blow cooler as night began to fall upon them. Without thinking, she reached for his hand with her own, cradling his larger palm.

She examined his newly bruised knuckles.

When he didn't answer, she joked, "Guess they didn't teach you how to fist fight in the army, did they?"

In what seemed like a lifetime, Stefan cracked a smile. "No," he chuckled, "I suppose they didn't," His poor mood was suddenly lifted, as he realized how close she was standing next to him. Chastising himself for wanting to be even closer, he refrained from brushing her hair out of her face.

"Does it hurt?" Caroline looked up, examining the darkening wound along the side of his jaw. Some blood had dried on the edge of his lips.

"No," he lied, wincing as she touched his new injury. His bruised jaw ached as he spoke, "Atleast I left him worse off than me,"

The blonde girl before him shot a look of disapproval, "You almost broke his nose," she took a step backward, "I'm sure your mother is positively furious,"

"Let her be," Stefan said, shoving his hands into his pockets as he slowly shifted his weight from foot to foot. "She's complicit for letting it happen in the first place,"

She sighed looking away, "Stefan," she breathed heavily.

"Miss Caroline," he countered almost playfully, hoping to alleviate the pressure the burden that seemed to weigh her down now.

"Why did you do it?" she asked quietly, half knowing and wondering about his answer.

There was a pregnant pause between them before he answered. "I don't really know," Stefan acknowledged, "Damon had it coming, he's always saying things he shouldn't without consequence."

"But do you always lunge at your brother from across the dinner table?"

"No," he admitted with a frown, "Never, actually,"

"So why, then?" Caroline stopped, reliving the evening's earlier events in her head. Everything seemed to be going well, everyone was making an effort to be cordial. Elizabeth had made the announcement that Giuseppe sent his regrets for his inability to attend dinner. Apparently the elder Salvatore had a call to take.

Conversation was flowing nicely, and Stefan made sure she didn't feel uncomfortable. She'd caught him staring at her the entire time, but chose to play it down. She could sense Elena's shoulders slump even further whenever Stefan looked in her direction. She could also see annoyance and anger in Damon's expression as he observed Elena's growing disappointment and unhappiness. Beth feigned indifference, but Caroline thought it was safe to say the matriarch was no more excited than her older son about a new stranger in their home. What a strange dynamic to see indeed.

Elena asked Caroline about New York, confessing that she wished to visit one day but was never brave enough to go the venture on her own. Before she could say anything else, Damon interjected abruptly.

Taking a sip from his nearly empty glass of bourbon he insisted on having with the meal, he spoke his mind. "Of course you wouldn't go to North all by yourself, Elena," he assured the brunette. Elena and Stefan both stiffened, both of them feeling the onslaught of unfriendly and lewd comments. Before either of them could stop him, Damon went off. "You were raised well, only girls of low standard travel so far by themselves. God knows what happens to girls who do that sort of thing,"

Caroline could practically feel her lungs collapse at Damon's words. What exactly had she done to prompt his hostility?

"How are you feeling?" Stefan's genuine concern brought her back to the present, as she gazed up into grey green orbs. "You look a little pale," he observed softly. She wondered how many times he could transform himself in one night.

He'd gone from cordial and stiff that afternoon, to warm and assuring during dinner, to livid later in the evening, and back to calm and composed now.

"Don't try to change the subject," Caroline snapped at him, crossing her bare arms and rubbing her hands over her shoulders. It was getting chillier out now. It hadn't occurred to her, as Stefan practically dragged her out of the dining room, to grab a coat. She was left standing in the red dress Elena had earlier insisted she wear.

Wordlessly, Stefan removed his suit jacket, placing the article of clothing over the girl's shoulders. It was absurdly many sizes too big on her, but somehow it looked right. She didn't reject his offer, immediately thankful for the warmth the extra layer provided. Taking another deep breath, Stefan half-leaned on a nearby tree's trunk.

"Alright, I'm sorry, you're right," he resigned, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "But Damon crossed the line tonight. You're my friend, I care about you,"

Her heart skipped a beat, but she refused to let it show. But even so, she was pretty sure Stefan could sense the effect of his words on her.

"I regret letting you see me like that, but I wasn't about to let him get away with calling you a tramp," he explained, seething through clenched teeth.

"He never called me a tramp," Caroline insisted almost inaudibly, as she joined Stefan and leaned against the same tree. He couldn't help but enjoy the thrill of having her so near.

"Of course, I believe the term he used was, 'gold digging tart'" he scoffed, trying to suppress another surge of anger.

It finally occurred to Caroline how little she really knew about Stefan. While they might have exchanged letters for the better part of a year, they had only actually met that very day. She didn't peg Stefan as a violent man, and to see him slam his only sibling against the wall by his collar astonished her.

While Elena and Beth pleaded with the boy to stop, Caroline remained frozen. She couldn't think, it took a while for her to process what was happening. At the last second, right before any serious injury was to sustained, she managed to pull the younger brother aside.

Even Stefan was amazed by how easily she brought him out of his rare rage. One word was like magic, and he instantaneously backed off. It was intensely satisfying to see how frustrated Damon became when he saw how strongly attached he was to the blonde woman.

There was something else too, though. Stefan was more observant than most, and he couldn't help but notice how skilled she was at coaxing someone into backing down. She handled it like she'd done it a hundred times before. Caroline had written that she was a party planner responsible for glam events of Manhattan natives. What part of her job description dictated her experience to break up a physical fight?

The thought occurred that she might be acquainted with some shadier sectors of the city, but he pushed it back to the corners of his mind.

Despite her potentially questionable past, he found himself growing more and more protective over her. While she seemed alright to accept the insult his older brother had thrown out before, he wasn't. If there was anything he had learned about her over the past year, it was that Caroline wasn't quite as strong as she had wanted people to believe.

While she might put up a facade of strength, she was still just a fragile girl at heart. Admirable were her efforts to keep herself sane, unsettling was how these efforts seemed to suppressed her true emotions.

"He didn't mean it. Alcohol was flowing," she tried to justify, though she knew Damon wouldn't have been any more fond of her presence even if he was not intoxicated. "He's your brother,"

That argument did nothing to persuade him. "He didn't know what he was talking about. He doesn't know you like I do,"

And just like that, Caroline's heart broke into a thousand pieces. How could he trust her so easily, so naturally?

True as it might be that Caroline was finding all sorts of new things about him today, Stefan had never withheld any information purposely or lied to her. On the other hand, Caroline had more secrets than she could count.

She averted her gaze, her eyes trained on the polished black leather of his shoes. "You might not know me as well as you think," she whispered.

He stopped for a moment, considering the message she wished to convey. "You're right, but I _want _to get to know you,"

She couldn't breathe.

"I want to know you better, Caroline Forbes." He shook his head, "I don't know what it is about you, but I can't help it. You're so amazingly beautiful, so unbelievably bright and strong," He chuckled to himself, "It's like you understand me better than I do, and I just want to do the same for you,"

She felt his gaze burning on her face, but she didn't dare look up to meet his eyes. She was afraid.

"Call me crazy, but I'm here for you, Caroline. No matter what anyone else thinks or says,"

She felt him grab her hand, and she couldn't muster the willpower to pull away.

"So tell me everything," he continued, "You don't have to hold anything back, I promise. You don't have to be something you're not, because you're perfect the way you are,"

She finally raised her head, only to regret it instantly. She would never be able to look away now, not after they locked eyes.

She couldn't speak, so he did all of the talking for her.

"You don't have to pretend with me,"

He leaned forward, and she could feel his breath on her cheek. Smoothly, he inched his way down until his forehead was touching hers. The tip of his straight nose grazed hers, and he remained in place. When he finally decided to follow his instincts, she put her hand on his chest.

"I think we should go back," she stopped him, and he stiffened.

"Sorry," he apologized, though he wasn't sure he would do it any differently if he had a chance to rethink his actions. He reluctantly backed away, dropping her hand. "I shouldn't have done that,"

This was the first time he had pursued a woman like this. He'd kissed a number of other girls in his time, but nothing was as nerve-racking as it was with Caroline. Before this afternoon, he wasn't even sure of his intentions of feelings towards this girl. But now, everything seemed to feel so perfect.

And while she managed to stop his lips from meeting hers, she almost let him. Matt had been the only boy she'd even thought about like this. While she couldn't deny that there was something about Stefan, she wasn't entirely sure she wanted him in that way.

"Let me make it up to you?" he suggested. "I used to come here all the time as a kid," he gestured to the woods that surrounded them. "If my mother wouldn't have a heart attack, I could've disappeared out here for weeks,"

He tried to joke with her, "I might not look the part, but I'm a redneck at heart,"

She laughed lightly, an awkward but sincere smile along her lips. It was difficult to maintain a sullen air around him. His very presence alone lightened her mood. "I'm afraid I don't believe you," she confessed, eying his appearance.

"Well in that case, I'll just have to prove it to you. Follow me, Miss Forbes,"

He took her hand again, only this time without any intention of letting go.

Forgetting about her qualms and insecurity that had resurfaced throughout the course of that evening, she let herself laugh. As he navigated through uncharted territory, he helped her every step of the way. When she nearly slipped, he'd caught her. When she almost fell off the side of the makeshift log bridge across a shallow creek, he'd instinctively wrapped his arm around her waist to support her weight. A strange sense of intimacy fell upon the couple.

It wasn't so much friendship or typical romance. It was something different, something special.

Both of them allowed themselves to ignore the improper context of their decisions. A handsome young man and woman, alone together, as the night was growing stronger. Well, there were only so many implications others could make about their circumstance.

When they were together, everything else seemed to blur into the background.

Problems at home, overly controlling families, crime and danger ridden companions, nothing besides them mattered.

While reality loomed just around the corner, Caroline didn't care anymore. She didn't want to do anymore thinking with her head, she didn't want to worry. For the first time, she allowed herself to be selfish, to do something for herself and no one else.

She was letting herself fall in love.

**End Chapter 10 **

A/N: Thank you to those of you readers who have stuck with this story, I know my writing pace can be frustrating. However, if you'd like me to continue, please leave a review!

For progress updates on this story, check my blog. It's 'one-wandering-soul' on tumblr.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I highly suggest rereading Chapter 5 before reading this one. I wrote this chapter with the intention of tying up a few loose ends, hope you like it!

**Chapter 11**

She dreamt of the moon that night.

An orbiting mass of rock, so immense but so small when gazed upon from the surface of the earth. For centuries, it had been the center of awe and fear of countless societies. Unable to understand something that seemed so far away, people bestowed the moon with mystical and even healing powers.

Caroline Forbes, on the other hand, held her own distinct view.

_'To the moon and back,' _

The same words still haunted the depths of her conscious, lingering into her thoughts without warning.

She dreamt of the moon that night, so she inevitably dreamt of Matt Donavon too.

First loves were impossible to forget, especially when it was one that was supposed to last forever. As the saying went, only the good died young. Unfortunately, there was more truth in that phrase than she had ever anticipated.

Devastation, grief, depression. The range of human emotion she embodied in those short months after she lost him was inconceivable, unimaginable. She was so young, but the prospect of death couldn't have hit closer to her heart.

But when all hope seemed lost, there was one person who swept her off her feet. With no substantial connection or relation, a complete stranger managed to heal the wounds that had cut so deep. Though she would bear the scars of the past forever, she was pulled from immediate danger.

Matt would hold an eternal place in her heart; that fact remained unchangeable. He had been the boy to show her that someone else could care for her, the boy who adored her to no end and would sacrifice the whole world if it meant he could see her smile. She didn't think it possible to feel anything remotely the same for another human being. And she was almost right, al_most. _

The moon was a guiding light, perpetually following the lives of those its subtle light illuminated. It was protective, calming, and consistent. It was, in other words, like Matt. A symbol of the lost love, it remained a steady presence in the night sky.

_'To the moon and back,'_

She never said it back when she had the chance. Whenever Matt would whisper his coveted promise to her, she would nod, and bury her head deeper into his embrace. She thought she had all the time in the world to muster the courage to reciprocate the affection he showered on her.

Perhaps it was guilt that struck her the worst after his death, guilt for never loving him like he loved her. Guilty for never willingly unveiling her vulnerable side, for holding herself back.

Maybe it was the knowledge that nothing lasted forever that prompted her to block it all out.

Caroline was by no means a superstitious individual, but she couldn't help but feel that Matt's ghost was still with her. Not haunting her, but doing what he always did; watching her and taking care of her. His presence was stronger before, but the strength had begun to fade. Especially in the past few days, Matt's presence seemed nonexistent.

He was letting go. Even worse, it felt like he was encouraging her to do the same.

No, she didn't want to lose him. She was grasping with the tips of her fingers, clenching onto the last semblance of him. He always called her stubborn, and she was going to live up to the name. She would not let him leave her completely, she would not be left alone.

And that was when the realization hit her like a wall of bricks.

Blue eyes snapped open in a panic, a sharp intake of air filling her lungs as she sat up in bed. Her blonde hair fell forward over her shoulders, her chest heaving slightly as she struggled for a real breath. An unknowing hand reached over to wipe the cold sweat off of her forehead.

Instinctively, her gaze followed to the window on the far side of the guest room. Through the translucent surface, she spotted the clear sky mixed with the lush foliage that surrounded the estate. Brightness leaked in through the panes, it was morning. The sun had risen, and the moon was gone.

Like they were the last parting words she would ever hear from him, like a fleeting gust of wind rushing past her body, she swore she heard Matt's voice one final time.

_'I love you to the moon and back, always.' _

A single tear rolled down her cheek, leaving a silver stream on her otherwise perfect face. Suddenly realizing the weight of that last sentence, she opened her mouth to respond. The twinge of pain shooting through the middle of her chest stopped her, the words catching in the back of her throat.

She hated that he died, she hated that he was gone, she hated that he had left, she hated that she loved him too much to voluntarily let him go. But no matter what, she couldn't hate that he had left her alone, because he didn't.

Had it been any other circumstance she might have smiled at the irony. He always called her a living angel, who would have known he was the one to become _her _guardian angel?

Caroline wasn't alone, and Matt made sure of it.

She wasn't alone, because she had Stefan now.

The younger Salvatore was the man who helped her heal, who would love her, take care of her, and sacrifice the entire universe if it meant he would see her smile. Stefan was the man who would teach her to love again, to live again.

Finally, her heartbeat returned to a normal pace. She felt the oxygen enter and leave her body as she took another slight breath. She brushed away the stray tear with the back of her hand, her lips parting.

Shaking her head, she stopped herself.

One breath, and then another.

Shifting her feet so she now stood on the cool hardwood floor, she stumbled over to the table pushed by the window. Scrambling clumsily in the drawers, she discovered what she had hoped to find. A shaking hand grasped the black pen, its tip pressed hard against the surface of a single leaf of paper.

One breath, and then another.

Too rushed to take a seat in the wooden chair beside her, she kneeled on the ground with her elbows hovering on the edge of the table, letting the ink bleed onto the paper. She didn't know why it this was so urgent, why she hadn't felt the need to do so earlier.

"To the moon and back, Matt. I love you too," she whispered softly, "Goodbye."

**-p-**

Stefan was too preoccupied to sleep that night.

So he laid awake in his bed, unable to keep his mind from wandering to the flaxen haired beauty who rested in her respective room down the hall. He continued to relive the moments they shared hours earlier, playing them over and over again.

Sighing in resignation and accepting he wouldn't be able to get any sleep, he sat up. Reaching over with his arm, he grabbed his watch and secured it on his wrist. He cursed under his breath as realized it was still a quarter to six.

Then the idea occurred to him.

**-p-**

Setting down her pen down on the table, she neatly folded the papers together into thirds. She sealed the envelope shut, its contents the cultivation of her work over the past hour.

Just as she finished printing the words, _'To Matt'_, on the front, a knock sounded on her door.

Jumping to her feet in surprise, she put her hand over her heart to calm its rapid beat. She glanced over at the clock that hung on the wall, eyes narrowing as they noted the early hour. Catching a glimpse of her appearance, she froze.

She was scantily clad in a thin strapped night gown, white. Thankfully it reached well over her knees. Begrudgingly throwing an earlier discarded shawl over her bare shoulders, she sucked in another breath and headed over to the entrance, apprehensively opening the door.

"Good morning, Miss Caroline,"

Kind greenish grey eyes greeted her, looking as if they were smiling at her themselves. She couldn't help but reflect the sentiment in her friendly disposition. The gloom that seemed to suffocate the enclosed space had instantaneously dissipated.

"Good morning," she returned with newfound jubilance.

"I apologize for visiting so early, I hope I didn't wake you," he said sheepishly.

"Oh, don't be. I've been up for some time now,"

He looked both ways down the hall before leaning in closer with a whisper, "I have a proposal for you,"

"Yes?" She nearly squeaked, attempting to maintain her composure with his face inches from hers.

"I fear another repeat of what happened at dinner last night," he began, a bit strained, "So I wanted to see if you would like to go out for breakfast with me. We can take a short walk, head out to town, and then I'll begin the tour I promised you yesterday,"

She didn't have to think twice, "Of course, I would love that," she replied immediately.

There was a slight pause between them, as bright blue and green grey orbs stared at each other. Strange, how content both parties were to simply be in the other's presence.

"Alright, it's a plan."

And then another pause, with nothing but smiles and longing stares. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and he couldn't wipe the grin off his face.

"We should probably hurry," Stefan finally suggested, "We wouldn't want to run into anyone on our way out. I'll let you get dressed and—" he cut himself off short.

Her delicate eyebrows met together as she looked up at him, questioning his unfinished sentence. But then she followed his gaze, and saw that he had caught a glimpse of the letter in her hand. That, and the name that was addressed on its face.

Yet one more pause, only this one was far more awkward than affectionate.

He opened his mouth to begin, but she beat him to it.

She quickly concealed the letter behind her back, her eyes widening at her mistake. Sudden shame heated her cheeks, she could imagine the scarlet color blush. A thousand thoughts swirled in her head, the potential material weaving a number of different explanations.

But the only word her lips could form was, "Closure,"

He stared at her for a few long seconds, his eyes taking in the vision she made. She looked uncomfortable, hiding something he'd clearly already seen.

And then like magic, he understood. No further elaboration was necessary.

It never ceased to amaze her, how well he seemed to understand every little thing about her without having to be explicitly informed.

"I see," he slowly nodded, his prominent jaw line tensing as he spoke, she could practically see the wheels turning in his head before he continued abruptly, "I'll let you get changed then. See you soon,"

She was stunned, still unsure of his reaction until he flashed her one reassuring half smile.

"See you soon," she agreed, reluctantly shutting the door as he backed out.

Stefan stood in the hallway alone, consumed in the shadows of the windowless space. A million thoughts beguiled his sanity at once, until he organized them into another scheme he knew he would be proud of.

With a few long strides, he returned to the mouth of his own room. Not having to pause for an instant, he went to the canvas bag he had yet to unpack. His mother had insisted that the maids unpack his luggage, but he had refused.

There were some things too precious in his bag, things too precious to put in the care of someone else.

Digging past the few articles of clothing he had brought back, he reached his prize at the bottom. Slowly and carefully, he pulled out the small wooden box that stored what he was sure to be his most treasured object.

Rising back up to his feet, he clicked open the lock and opened the top. Inside were two separate piles of letters. One pile, tied by a blue ribbon, was his. The other, the bigger pile, belonged to Matt. Scattered on the bottom were the few mementoes Stefan had refused to throw away.

With two fingers, he laid the dried red leaf in the palm of his hand. It had been the first she'd sent him.

Removing his possessions, and storing them in the first drawer of his large desk on the other side of the room, he closed the top and carried it under his arm.

Stefan was always more perceptive than the majority, but this was the first time he thought he understood someone else so completely. _Closure, _she said. If she really wanted it, he would help her achieve it.

**End Chapter 11**

A/N: Please leave a review if you want me to continue!


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Damon ran a clammy hand over his pale face, groaning as he tried to will his splitting headache away. He woke up understanding the hangover would likely last well into the day. Flinching as his fingers landed on the swollen bridge of his nose, the events of the prior night came reeling back.

He groaned even louder. _Damn bourbon. _

Whilst contemplating what he would need to do in order to salvage what existed of his relationship with Stefan, a loud knock sounded on his door. The noise felt urgent, hurried. The door nearly swung open itself, and the dark haired Salvatore found himself face to face with a certain brunette beauty.

"Elena," he breathed, recovering from his momentary shock he went on smoothly as he could with a broken nose, "To what do I owe the lovely pleasure of your presence?"

The girl rolled her eyes as she pushed past the older boy, paying him as little attention as possible. "Not even in your dreams, Damon." Without missing a beat, she made her way to the window on the far side of the room. In one motion, she opened the curtains and let in the bright sunlight.

He hissed, shielding his eyes. "Was that honestly necessary?"

She didn't answer, clearly preoccupied with whatever view outside by the front of the house. His eyebrows furrowed together, but instead of asking aloud, joined her by the clear pane. Damon was never the sensitive or perceptive brother, always less sympathetic and more callous in his attitude towards others. But for some reason, it was always so natural to read Elena.

From the first night he laid eyes on her, he couldn't break away. He had reluctantly made the trip back to his family home on vacation from University. Expecting to be greeted by a disapproving father, doting mother, and darling sibling, he was instead met with one of the most wondrous creatures he could conjure of.

He fell in love with her instantly. It was just a shame that she only had eyes for another. That much remained unchanged.

The hurt in her voice strangled his own throat, "He's taking her out," she whispered, stating the obvious. Below in the cobbled roundabout in front of the mansion was one of the newest additions to his father's automobile collection: a new and shiny car with an open top. Stefan, sunglasses shielding his eyes from the bright sun, sat behind the wheel.

Neither Damon nor Elena had ever witnessed this side to Stefan. While Stefan was always protective over the ones he loved, he never quite let anyone completely in. He was an enigma, and impossible puzzle with countless layers. No matter how many times they tried to get past his guard, their efforts would always end up fruitless.

Stefan had grown into an even more serious, hardened, and hidden person since he'd last been home. Damon couldn't be sure what had instigated the change, but he was willing to bet that Caroline Forbes had something to do with it.

Almost in awe, Elena's warm brown eyes watched as Stefan grinned broadly. She watched from a distance as the man she idolized and pined over got out from his seat to usher another flaxen haired girl into the vehicle. It was hard to see from so far, but they were speaking to each other. Whatever Stefan said made Caroline laugh.

A pang of jealousy and sadness struck sharply against Elena's ribcage.

She couldn't sleep the previous night, not a wink. The thought of Stefan out with another girl, outside of the house, perhaps in public, doing what only God knew of. Stefan had never been so adventurous with her. Elena had always thought it was because he was reserved in personality, or that he was saving her from the trouble of gossip or unkind rumors.

Right now she realized perhaps it was only because his feelings toward her had never been strong enough to prompt that side of him. Maybe the connection she thought was between them never existed to begin with.

Elena had heard Stefan and Caroline in the hallway, their footsteps and hushed whispers as they snuck out for a romantic morning together. As soon as the coast was clear, she headed to Damon's room without another thought. His room had a better view of the front gate than any other in the building.

"After spending all that time together, he's just taking her out again," she felt an unbecoming scowl spread over her features. "He hasn't even seen your father since he's been back," she uttered incredulously with her arms crossed over her chest.

The pair didn't exchange any words for a minute while they watched the couple outside in silence drive away from the estate.

"So," Damon spoke up first, "What do you think her story is?" he turned towards her, cautiously eyeing her appearance. She was less covered up than usual, in a more revealing nightgown with a dipping neckline.

"I don't know," Elena shook her head, rubbing her hands over her naked shoulders. "She seems," she paused, searching for the right description, "different."

Damon scoffed, "'Different', that's a nice way of putting it."

Elena took an accusing stance, "You could have be more polite, you know,"

"Not everyone is dedicated to a life behind a mask of decorum and propriety, Elena." He drawled, "You might be okay blending into the background, but I'm not just going to fade away without a voice. I don't trust that girl, we know nothing about her! You've seen the ring on her finger, there's no way someone like her could afford a piece like that. Stefan's just too much of a lovesick puppy to realize he's being used."

The mention of Stefan's obvious feelings for Caroline struck a nerve, and Damon instantly regretted speaking up.

"You always do this!" Elena asserted bitterly, "You always try to turn me against Stefan without even the slightest bit of evidence. We both know Stefan is one of the only people with a level head on his shoulders, and he wouldn't be so careless to invite some stranger into his life for no reason."

"Oh please, don't—"

"And you're always picking a fight with him. It was his first day back, and you're already on him about every little detail. Last night you were completely out of line," she attempted to keep her voice low, but was slowly being betrayed by her overwhelming frustration. "I'm the last one to want Stefan to be with another woman, but at least I'm not insulting her with every chance I get! She was perfectly polite, and you tear her down without provocation!"

"Do you even remember what you called her last night?" Elena demanded angrily.

Damon opened his mouth to retort, but had nothing to say. He'd always had somewhat of a problem with alcohol, especially whenever there was an issue with his family. He wasn't the kindest drunk, and he'd slurred out his fair share of unwarranted insults.

Maybe it would take more than a slap on the back and a sarcastic apology to mend things with Stefan this time.

"Exactly." Elena bit the side of her cheek, disappointment and disdain written all over her face. "You're pushing him to her, and away from us."

First a punch to the face by the hand of his only sibling, then the incessant scolding and screeching from his mother, and now the borderline hatred from Elena. He couldn't win, he never could against Stefan.

As nonchalant and confident as Damon kept his exterior, he was forever impaired by crippling insecurity. He was never good enough, never able to even enter the same league as his younger brother. Fraternal competition was normal for any siblings, but this was different. Their parents, Elena, everyone seemed to choose Stefan over Damon at every turn.

"Elena," he tried.

"Don't bother talking to me until you've made things right with Stefan and Caroline," Elena snapped before storming out, leaving a brooding Salvatore all by himself.

Damon didn't call out after her, barely wincing as the door slammed shut behind her. He was breathing deeply, but he was seething. Slowly, after a while of standing in place, watching his feet, he went over to the mirror that sat next to his bed.

Frowning in realization, he reached up to touch his injured face.

Maybe after Damon apologized first, Stefan should say he was sorry for what he'd done to his good looks. A few bruises trailed up the older brother's jawline, and his crooked nose stared angrily back in his reflection.

Reaching up with one hand and closing his eyes, Damon pinched the bridge of his nose and jerked it back into what he hoped to be its original position. It went back with an abrupt crack, and Damon cussed under his breath.

**-p-**

The morning sun warmed her porcelain skin, the cool air sweeping back her golden hair, all as they drove their way into town. She shielded her fair complexion from the sun's harsh rays with one hand, enjoying the passing scenery.

It was so quiet now, with only the soft hum of the car's engine beneath them.

Her blonde locks were tied back in a soft and simple knot, soft waves hanging over her right shoulder. She donned a plain shift dress, one with sleeves and that nearly reached her knees. She wasn't quite dressed to impress, but Stefan's frequent and furtive glances made her feel otherwise.

It didn't matter what she was wearing, or what she did with her hair. In Stefan's eyes, she was always beautiful. As hard as he was trying to drive safely and concentrate on the road, he couldn't stop himself from stealing several looks through the corner of his eye. The pull she had on him was unexplainable. The more time they seemed to spend together, the more he wanted to be with her.

He wasn't the only one admiring the other's appearance. Caroline had been initially attracted to the boy behind the words, the one who wrote to her constantly, the one who could keep her eyes glued to ink on paper. But now that they had met, an entirely new facet of attraction had been opened.

No one would deny it; Stefan was handsome. Sunglasses over his eyes, brownish but not quite blond hair pushed back, a kind and knowing smile across his lips. She tried not to think about his lips when she felt his hand reach for hers.

At first, she was unsure of his intentions. But slowly she relaxed under his touch, and eventually began to enjoy the slight warmth from his palm onto the back of her hand. He held in place, not moving.

Stefan looked down for a second, momentarily catching the glare of the lapis lapuli on her finger. The ring. She never ceased to amaze him, how she caught on to his train of thought without fault.

He listened to her voice as she spoke, something so soothing and relaxing to his ears.

"Stefan?"

"Hmm,"

There a slight pause of hesitation, but the braver side of her won over. "Why did you send it to me?"

He knew what she was referring to.

He thought for a moment before answering as honestly as he could. His reply was more candid than exact, but he couldn't help but realize how easy it was to be so vulnerably open with her.

"I don't know," he returned truthfully, "I have no idea,"

A smile spread over her lips, "Is that so, Mr. Salvatore?" She addressed him formally, a habit she noticed he had with her.

"The streamer," he interjected.

She sat there puzzled, before she realized what he meant. "Oh, the ribbon?" She remembered sending him the strip of blue satin. Frankly, out of all the mementos she'd sent him, that one had been for the least obvious reason. Unlike the rest of her gifts, the ribbon was more personal, more intimate. She wore it in her hair for weeks, tying her hair back and looking in the mirror, always thinking about how Stefan probably wouldn't see anything quite like that stationed in Europe.

It was such a puzzling thing to send, but what she received back that Christmas was even more confusing.

"It was the same color," he reasoned, more trying to figure out what he meant aloud rather than give her an answer.

He felt his mood lift again as he heard her light laughter, "You sent me a ring because the gem matched the color of an old ribbon?"

He laughed at how preposterous it sounded from her. "Strange, I know." He admitted. He felt the ring around her finger, "I'm amazed though, with how well it fits you."

"You do have good taste," she complimented with mock excitement, "Perhaps you should come back with me to New York, you'll be able to help me pick out all of my jewelry,"

Oh, if only she knew how much he would love to join her wherever she went. Even somewhere as far as New York.

"It was intuition, I suppose. It was like it was meant to be for you,"

Wordlessly, she scooted closer to him. Not sure of what compelled her to do so, she leaned on his body and rested her head on his shoulder. She felt him stiffen, but then slowly welcome her closeness. It was like the crook of his neck was meant to hold her head.

She smelled like Spring, he mused. Just like sun, freshly bloomed flowers, and youthful vitality.

Caroline held her hand out in front of her so it stood out before the windshield. She examined the ring, deep in thought.

"It's kind of a recurring theme with us, don't you think?"

"What is?" he murmured into her hair, his eyes on the road.

"Intuition," she said quietly, "meant to be," she repeated his own words.

_Meant to be, _he liked the sound of that. Who knew they were just describing the inevitable and omnipotent force that was Fate?

**-p-**

They spent the remainder of the morning walking around the empty town. The Mystic Diner didn't open until half-past nine, so they wandered the sparsely populated streets together. Just as he had promised before, he played the part of the informative tour guide. Pointing out all of the historical significance of nearly every block, he chuckled and confessed his love of history. He was, as he put it, good with dates.

Soon enough, other townspeople began to join their day. Various residents recognized Stefan instantly. He was a hometown hero, adored by everyone. Young children, all of whom Stefan had not seen in two years, ran up to him and jumped on his back or into his arms. The kids nearly strangled him until their parents came out scolding them.

Men shook his hand, congratulating him on his service to his country, and the overall wellbeing and victory they'd won. Women kissed him on the cheek, thanking the heavens he managed to get out of war with his beautiful face unscathed. The elderly would comment and shower endless attention on him.

"How is your father?" an older man asked.

"He's fine," Stefan replied with a straight face, "He's fine."

Stefan neither rebuffed or welcomed all of their approaches. He seemed appreciative and humble. And with every individual who came over, Stefan without fail managed to introduce Caroline. He was more than proud to show her off, despite his slight trouble describing their relationship.

In the end, he settled for calling her his very, very dear friend.

"You're quite the celebrity," she joked over breakfast.

She would have let the nerves ruin her appetite, were it not for the savory meal Stefan had ordered for the two of them. Nearly everything she could have thought to eat was laid out in front of her. Stefan had insisted it was okay, and she reluctantly let it slide.

Somehow she was reminded of Tyler in that moment. The only friend she used to have that was never concerned with money was the Lockwood boy, and the action brought back memories. She tried to not let it show, but she began wondering where Tyler was. She hadn't heard anything from him, and according to her mother, no one had.

Hopefully that meant he was safe.

The couple spent the remainder of the day walking around. Caroline discovered her uncharacteristic love for small town life. The bookstore was a dream; with an extensive collection she would have assumed to have been far narrower.

When they were done in town, the sun was beginning to set again.

They were driving back, when Stefan took an unfamiliar turn onto a dirt path. She raised her head from his shoulder, mouth open to ask where their destination was. But he beat her to it, reassuring her that there was nothing to worry about.

So she closed her mouth, trusting him. It was something she had such difficulty doing before, but felt so natural with Stefan.

Less than a half hour later, they were up near the top of a hill. The higher elevation was made clearer by the view when the pulled up. They stood overlooking the very forest they had gone exploring the previous evening.

"What are we—" Caroline began, cut off at the sight of what Stefan pulled out of the trunk of the car.

At first, she narrowed her eyes to identify what the object was. Rectangular, wooden, handcrafted. And then there was no mistaking it. It was Matt's; it was Matt's box.

Cautiously, Stefan walked forward.

"Caroline," Stefan's voice was suddenly somber, serious.

"Why do you have that?" she managed to get out dryly.

He let out a heavy sigh, "He left it behind, after the—" he took another breath, "after the accident."

"Oh," was the only thing she could think of the say back.

Slowly, his fingers undid the small metal latch on the front. He revealed its contents, knowing she would recognize it immediately. They were everything she'd exchanged with Matt his first year of duty, the last year of his life. All of the papers and envelopes looked perfectly maintained, nothing crumbled or ripped.

"He loved you so much, Caroline."

Everything was spinning.

"He kept all of your letters," he spoke, looking down at the bundle of envelopes inside the box. "Every single one,"

He cleared his throat, suddenly guilty for resurfacing the emotions she had tried so desperately to bury. But he told himself that this was necessary, and for the best. She needed closure, she couldn't live her life completely without it.

There had been a small and dignified funeral in Sicily, one attended by less than a dozen of Matt's fellow soldiers. It had been short and to the point, missing a few key players.

Matt's mother had abandoned him when he was fifteen, his sister had passed away at an early age, and he never knew his father. With few friends and no family, there was no one to plan a funeral back in the states. Caroline had thought to hold a ceremony, but she was too broken to function properly much less plan something so painful.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to, Caroline." Stefan assured her, his hand on her shoulder. As much as he felt an attraction to her romantically, this moment was platonic. He had feelings for Caroline, but right now was all about her. He wanted to do as much as he could to make the pain go away. He wished he could do something to lessen the burden, this was all he could come up with. "But if you do want to, I think you should have a chance to properly say goodbye."

She was listening intently, saying nothing, but trying to comprehend his words.

With shaking hands, she reached over for the letters. There were a lot of them. She thought back to a time when everything seemed so simple, to a time when she seemed so much younger and naïve, so blissfully ignorant.

"When I came to your room this morning, I saw the letter," Stefan's tone was soft, careful.

Of course.

Caroline fought between the conflicting sadness of Matt's memory or the happiness from Stefan's absolute consideration.

Suddenly she felt her face pressed up against Stefan's chest, his arms wrapping tightly around her. He was hushing her, petting her hair. "You're going to be okay, it's okay," he repeated. Caroline stopped to think why he was doing all of this, when she realized she was crying.

"I'm so sorry," Stefan apologized, "I'm so sorry that you're hurting right now."

Guilt plagued him like nothing else, and it made him miserable to see her like this. It was just as bad as if he had directly inflicted the pain on her. They stayed like that, pushed together, almost as one. Neither of them were keeping track of time, though the sun did go down. Soon enough, the sky was a blackish purple, with dots of sparkling lights scattered above.

He let her cry all of her tears, patiently comforting her with every whimper of sniffle.

"Shhh," he would hush, "You'll be okay."

"Stefan," her voice was weak, but he could hear her, "I want to,"

He stopped, letting her continue.

"I want to say goodbye,"

He pulled back, wiping back her loose tears from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb. He guided her to the hood of the car, making sure she was leaning steady. Then he made his way to the trunk of the car, pulling out a shovel.

She watched wordlessly as he went over to a nearby tree, about five feet from the cliff, and began digging. He finished shortly, and went back over to Caroline. He took her by the hand and led her over, the chest in his other hand.

"Do you have the letter with you?" he asked gently.

How he had the time to prepare this, she would never know. But in addition, he'd somehow predicted her actions. How would he have known she would take the letter with her that day? It was like he knew her better than she knew herself.

Nodding slowly, she told him where it was. He listened intently, and headed over to the passenger seat of the car. He retrieved her purse, and pulled out the letter that had been written that very day. He handed it all to her, making sure her grasp was steady.

In her palms, she had every letter she'd written to Matt.

"Ready?" he breathed.

"Ready." She confirmed.

She kneeled onto the ground, not caring about the dirt that would stain her legs. She bent down and laid down the chest in the center of the ditch. It was no more than two feet deep. Caroline, for what felt like a lifetime, pulled back, and then placed the most recent letter on the top of the chest.

Getting back up to her feet, she grasped onto Stefan's arm for support.

Stefan moved forward, leaning down to take a fistful of the rock earth. He stood above the grave of sorts he'd created, sprinkling the soil over the hole to cover the box.

"To my friend, Matt Donovan, one of the greatest men I've ever known."

He stepped back, his head hung in sorrow. He was surprised when he felt Caroline reach up pat him softly on the back, as if to comfort him this time.

He waited for Caroline to follow in suit, as she bent down and took a handful of dirt in her dainty hand. She turned her hand over, letting the earth fall over the box.

"To Matthew Donovan, my dear Matt. To the man I have loved with all my heart, and to a kind soul I'll never be able to forget."

**-p-**

_Dear Matt,_

_I miss you. From the moment I wake up in the morning to the second I fall asleep at night, you're somehow still a part of my life. Without you, everything seems so different and distant from the reality I once knew. We were so close to being together again that it never occurred to me that something might happen. The day I lost you was the day a part of me died as well._

_You were the first boy I've had feelings for. Everything with you seemed so right, I thought we had our entire lives planned out before us. I guess the future can be unpredictable, though. You always said that change was a healthy occurrence, that change was just another mechanic of nature. Things flowed, things moved, things went on. But for a long time after you were gone, everything halted._

_It hurt so unbelievably bad to know that we would never spend another New Years Eve together, wandering the streets alone. Or another summer together, sleeping out on the roof of your building, pretending that the millions of city lights around us were stars. Or even another minute together, to see your smile, or hear your voice. It hurt so unbelievably bad that I thought I wouldn't survive._

_Now though, the stagnant and hellish nightmare of those few months is over. By some miracle, the world around me is coming alive again. An entire year has passed now, the seasons have evolved, and the leaves will turn color again. My head has told me countless times over that I should move on, that it was what you would have wanted. It hasn't been until recently that my heart has started to listen._

_There will never be another love identical to the one we shared, but I promise I'll do my best to let someone else in. Maybe, one day, I'll find myself whole again._

_I write this to relinquish the desperate hold I've had on you, and I write this to you to say goodbye. You're free, and in a sense I am too. I'd like to think you're in a better place now, enjoying your time and living just like you did in the short time you were here on this earth. I hope you're able to find love again, because you deserve it._

_Loving you always,_

_-Caroline Forbes_

**-p-**

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine, Stefan." Caroline insisted, giving him a smile. They were back in the Salvatore residence, which was just as still and quiet as it had been when they left it. "I actually feel better than I have in months," she confessed candidly, not caring how much she was sharing. She could trust Stefan with anything, she was sure of that much now.

"You're not hungry? We could go down to the kitchen, get one of the maids to make something for you." They had skipped dinner, as they had returned too late. He was sure his mother had a fit with his poor record of family attendance recently, but that was an issue for another time.

"Not hungry," she assured him, "Just tired. It's been a long day,"

He nodded in agreement.

"Alright, then I'll leave you to it. You should get some rest," Stefan was about to move away when her hand landed on his forearm.

"Wait," she stopped him, "Thank you. For today, for everything."

"It's no problem,"

Her eyes were still slightly swollen, but she managed to crack a smile. "You're always looking out for me,"

He returned the smile, warming his usually stoic expression. "Someone has to."

They stared at each other, neither of them quite ready to break contact for the day.

"Good night, Caroline."

"Good night, Stefan."

As he backed away, she reluctantly shut her door. After listening to his footsteps trail far down the hallway, she sunk down onto the floor, her back on the door. She placed her hand over her heart, finding that a heavy weight had been lifted from her chest. She could breathe easier now, though her heart was racing furiously.

She was about to get to her feet, when she heard a knock on the door.

Another smile pulled at the edges of her lips. Maybe Stefan was having a harder time than she was even after only a minute apart. Jumping up, she reached for the doorknob and opened up. But in the place of the dashing young man, was a familiar dark skinned girl.

"Bonnie," Caroline greeted, unable to disguise her obvious disappointment. She tried not to appear rude and impolite, but she couldn't help it. "How can I help you?" It was a bit odd for a maid to be up at this hour, especially for her.

"Mr. Salvatore would like to see you,"

And just like that, Caroline's spirits were lifted once again. Perhaps Stefan had taken it upon himself to have a midnight meal together.

"Of course,"

The pretty blonde followed the other girl down the hallway, making their way down the grand staircase, through the foyer, and then down a walkway Caroline had never gone down before. Once they passed the kitchen, Caroline began to doubt where they were heading.

Just as Caroline had meant to question Bonnie on the specifics, they arrived at their destination.

Bonnie simply opened the door at the end, and nudged Caroline forward.

All of the walls were lined with bookshelves, a vintage and antique style to the decorations. It was a rather large space, especially since it had been so well hidden. In the dead center of the back, was a large oak desk. Behind it was a leather seat, with a man Caroline had never met before.

Bonnie didn't have to explain who he was to her, because Caroline could see the resemblance.

With a facial structure similar to Stefan and coloring exactly like Damon, the most Senior Salvatore could most definitely say his two sons held a great resemblance toward him. He was older than she expected, but there was no doubt in her mind.

This was Giuseppe Salvatore, in the flesh.

"Well you're here at last," his voice was deeper than his son's, "Why don't you take a seat, Miss Forbes."

**End Chapter 12**

A/N: Please review if you want me to continue. One of my favorite chapters to write, _by far. _A glimpse of double jealous Delena, some classic Steroline, one more letter with some fleeting Maroline, and an introduction to a new character! Dying for feedback, please tell me what you think!


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: An ultimate Steroline chapter, get ready!

**Chapter 13**

"My wife tells me you're from New York,"

Caroline felt like she had swallowed her own tongue, unable to speak when addressed. She wrung her hands together in a nervous fashion, her lips pressed together in a tight line. Pushing through her anxiety, she managed to force a smile. She sat in the chair in front of the desk.

"Yes," she answered shakily, struggling to complete a façade of control, "Born and raised,"

"I see," the older man leaned back in his overbearing leather seat, his narrowed eyes picking apart her appearance. "Dreadful city, New York," Giuseppe remarked casually, as if it hadn't been aimed as an insult.

Her mouth fell open in shock of his blunt comment, but she recovered before it became too obvious. "It's um," she paused, swallowing, "It's definitely different than Mystic Falls,"

"Yes," he agreed icily, "It certainly is."

An air of tension seemed to suck all of the breathable oxygen out of the room, and Caroline's head began to spin. She was mentally and physically exhausted from the long day that had preceded this moment. But she refused to surrender.

This was more than a chance meeting. Rather, it was a strategic ambush, one to catch her off-guard. It didn't escape her, how Giuseppe had called upon her presence when Stefan was all too coincidentally absent. Sitting in silence, Caroline decided to take initiative and break the quiet first. "This is a lovely home you have,"

"Thank you," he replied half-heartedly. Then a light of an idea flashed through his eyes, and a ghost of a malicious smile passed across his mouth. It was subtle, but Caroline had seen it. "Beth does her best to maintain the estate's appearance. I would say she does a wonderful job, don't you think so, Ms. Forbes?"

"Yes," the air suddenly felt significantly thinner, "She's very talented,"

"But you know, there's always an extent to the work my wife does. You see, she can get somewhat carried away, and it's then my duty to limit her."

"Of course,"

"This house, this land, this place has been kept in its originality for a number of generations. There's something to honor in tradition, in living along certain rules and guidelines. I can hardly let my wife redecorate and renovate to her heart's content, not if it means sacrificing part of my family's history,"

She didn't know where this was leading, but she knew it wasn't anywhere good.

"I can imagine you understand that much, my dear," Giuseppe nearly spat out the last part, the term spoken with more disdain and sarcasm than endearment. His tone was reminiscent of Damon's that night at dinner, but far more severe. And even then, at least Damon had been drunk. To see someone sober and so openly hostile, it was menacing.

Unable to think of anything to respond with, she remained paralyzed, helplessly watching what was to come next unfold.

"And just as it has been my duty to keep my wife's silly ambition at bay, it is also my duty to assure my son's wellbeing,"

And there it was. Caroline let a nonexistent breath out, closing her eyes as she nursed a growing headache. When she opened them, Giuseppe's unrelenting gaze was staring directly into hers.

"Stefan was once a promising boy. Smart, disciplined, obedient. But recklessness has clouded his promise, and he's nearly ruined his potential. I had wrongly assumed than him running off like some mindless idiot to join a War he had no business if participating in was the worst of it. And then he comes home with _you._" the words grinded out between clenched teeth.

_Ow_. Caroline cringed as she envisioned the knife sticking into her chest, thinking of how the invading weapon might have been less painful. Her hands were probably shaking, but she didn't look down at them to check. Her eyes kept connection with his, somehow her blood boiling beneath her skin.

"I'm no fool, Miss Forbes. I'm familiar with your kind, and I don't trust as blindly as my son does. I will not let some stranger take advantage of his momentary stupidity. Whatever you think you have with Stefan, all it amounts to is youthful indiscretion. Don't you think for a moment that you're a permanent fixture in his life."

Her chest was rising and falling, her small fist clenched in her lap.

Giuseppe didn't stop his rant there. "If it's thrill, if it's money, whatever you believe you'll acquire by hanging around here, you won't get it. I am a man with significant influence, and I can guarantee that your life will be made much easier if you just leave now. The longer you stay, the deeper the impression Stefan will have."

She could feel her hands trembling again, but now it wasn't because of fear.

"I'll have someone drive you to the station tomorrow, and you will board the first train north. You will go back to New York, and you will stay there. You will not mention this to Stefan, you will not say goodbye. You are to leave and never return."

Her heart was racing, and she could feel the surface of her cheeks burning.

"Do as I say, and cut your losses here. Stray from my orders, and I'll make sure that you sorely regret it, Miss Forbes,"

And just like that, something snapped inside her.

She let out an exasperated breath, shaking her head incredulously. "Excuse me," Giuseppe looked at her like she had lost her mind, "Are you _threatening_ me?" A surge of adrenaline shot through her veins, and she rose to her feet.

Giuseppe held his poker face, folding his arms over his chest. The stoic manner he carried himself with was scarily close to the way Stefan did. "Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be,"

She mimicked his actions, crossing her own arms.

It was an ambush no more. This was a standoff, a deadlock standstill between two individuals. She wouldn't be pushed around anymore.

Giuseppe followed in suit, standing up, slowly pushing the chair behind him. "You might think that you play a bigger part in all of this, but let me make it perfectly clear that you do not. I will not let Stefan make any more mistakes, he's already put too much of his future at risk and—"

With courage she didn't have a minute ago, she cut him off. "His future? Or the one you planned out for him?" Her words were sharp, and she could see they shocked him.

This time, it was Giuseppe that was left speechless.

"Sir," she mocked his tone earlier, the address more sarcastic than respectful, "You might think you know me, but let me make it perfectly clear that you do not. Make as many assumptions as you want about my _kind, _but know that that's all they'll ever be. You know nothing of me, and you certainly know nothing about your son either."

Stefan was always the one protecting her, shielding her, healing her. He was an experienced soldier, a young man who made sure he could fend for himself. But it was strange, how badly right now she wanted to protect him. Stefan had written short sentences about the horror that was his father, but after meeting him in person, this was something completely new. She didn't know how to react, only that she wanted to put him in his place.

If it was anyone who was going to hurt Stefan or hold him back, it wasn't her.

Taken aback, Giuseppe struggled to respond. "You've known him for a few days, what could you possibly know about him?"

"You've known him his entire life, yet you know far less than I do." Her interjections were short, to the point. "You paint this picture of your son, you think of him as this imperfect, impulsive, selfish child. Open your eyes for one moment to see that you're wrong!" Her volume began to rise, but she didn't care. "Stefan is kind, he's respectful, he's compassionate. He's intelligent, he's understanding, he's strong. He's a soldier, he's a man now and not a boy, and if you continue to treat him the way you have, he won't be your son for much longer."

The older man's jaw fell slightly ajar. He had lived quite some time, met a grand number of people, and never had he been spoken to in such a manner. He wasn't sure if it was her boldness and intrepid nature, or if it was what she actually had to say, that stunned him.

Someone was always coming to her rescue.

Matt had saved her from the tortures of living with an abusive and alcoholic father, serving as her light throughout their childhood. Tyler had saved her from initial loneliness, his friendship serving as part of a recently shattered base. He sacrificed himself to keep her safe, throwing himself into the crossfire before the enemy could aim their firearms at her. And then Stefan, who had pulled her out of the darkness, who made her feel like she could live again.

She never knew what she ever did to deserve such wonderful people in her life. But it was time for her to start rescuing herself. She wasn't scared and naïve little Caroline anymore, she could handle herself now.

Caroline's anger was still raw. "Keep your money, your beautiful home, and your superficially infallible reputation. I don't want any of it. You might be accustomed to people cowering in your shadow, but rest assured, Mr. Salvatore, I'm not afraid of you. You can kick me off your property, and you can threaten me all you like. But I won't be disappearing from Stefan just because you say so. Whatever contact we have, whatever we do with our relationship, that is his decision, not yours."

She was huffing slightly now, and she was feeling more lightheaded than ever. Before he had the opportunity to respond, she interrupted him first.

"Goodbye, and I hope we never have the pleasure of doing this again,"

She turned around on her heel, swiveling around in one smooth motion, and headed for the exit she came in from. She pushed past the door, and maneuvered her way through the dark hallways. She felt the walls to guide her back, too full of frustration to stop and think of where she was heading.

But none of that mattered, because in the end, she'd won.

**-p-**

Back in his study, Giuseppe dropped into his chair. He frowned, running his hand over his face. He sighed loudly, still trying to digest what has just happened. This girl, who he thought would run scared, had somehow managed to best him.

At first, he was angry. How dare someone like that speak to him in such a way? Never had someone treated him with such blatant disrespect. He replayed the events over again in his head, thinking of when and how she had taken the lead.

She refused to back down to his authority, something the eldest Salvatore had little experience with.

He heard something shuffle in the background, and he raised a knowing eyebrow. Of course. "You can come out now," he said loudly, confidently enough that his eavesdropper could not ignore him.

The door in the far right corner of the room creaked open, revealing a tall and dark haired young man. He wasn't too please with getting caught.

"I swear to God, I thought you would have outgrown this habit when you were younger," Giuseppe snapped, looking at his older son.

Damon rolled his eyes, dusting off his shoulders as he fully emerged from the closet. "How long did you know I was in there for?" he made his way over, seating himself in the chair that Caroline had been sitting in. He sat lazily, slouching severely as he rested his chin on his palm.

"You boys were never good at concealing your presences," The Salvatore brothers had acquired a penchant for listening in on their father's various and shady business calls. But every time they tried, they failed. Giuseppe had a sharp sense of hearing, hell, Damon used to joke that he might have even had a sharp sense of smell, the way they got caught.

If Giuseppe had let Damon stay throughout the meeting with Caroline, it was because he wanted Damon there.

"She's something, isn't she?" Damon smirked, referring to the spitfire blonde who had recently taken her leave.

"Yes, she definitely is," he concurred, nodding his head. "What do you think?"

"You want my verdict?" a tinge of disbelief in his tone, before answering quickly to save himself a lecture, "To be fair, my initial assumptions about her were warranted. But I guess we can say she's not in it for the money," he shrugged.

While Damon tried to maintain an appearance of indifference on the outside, he secretly felt repentant on the inside. He felt apologetic for treating her the way he did last night at dinner. It was part jealousy that Stefan might actually be happy, and wrath than Stefan's happiness was quietly causing Elena pain. He took it out on Caroline just because he could. She didn't warrant his poor behavior.

"What else?"

"Well, she's no Elena."

"Meaning what?"

"She might be pretty, but she has a strong backbone. I don't think I've ever seen anyone act like that around you. There's a lot more to her than meets the eye,"

Giuseppe nodded curtly.

"What about you, dear Father? What do you think of my brother's beautiful friend?"

Giuseppe stopped, tilting his head up as he studied the blank ceiling, his eyes then moving to the ornate chandelier than hung from the middle of the room. "Miss Forbes has quite the personality," he stopped, "Perhaps I was too quick to decide her fate."

"What?" Damon's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He swore he saw a semblance of a smile on the old man's face. It disappeared after an instant, but the occasion was so rare that it threw him off completely.

And then the last words Damon thought would slip through his father's lips sounded. He nearly choked when he heard it.

"Tell Bonnie to cancel the car we had scheduled for tomorrow morning. Perhaps it would do us all some good if Miss Forbes stays with us for a while longer."

**-p-**

As Caroline packed her bag the next morning, she felt the blood pump through her skull. Things were so complicated, so twisted here. Over the course of forty-eight hours, she had been interrogated, judged, and treated with the upmost disrespect. But at the same time, she had been cherished, comforted, and aided by Stefan's gentle and steady hand.

How much she wished their time together could have lasted longer.

Maybe if she left wordlessly, Stefan wouldn't try to stop her. So much bad blood and hurt existed between Stefan and his father, and an all out confrontation would only make matters worse. But could she actually leave without saying goodbye?

Where would she go?

Was it safe to return home? Would her mother welcome her back with open arms, or throw her onto the street for disappearing in the first place? What about Tyler? Was he alright? Was he looking for her, was he even alive? So many questions that only time could answer, time that she didn't want to pass.

She wanted to stay here, to be with the one man she was finally letting herself live with again. If only his family were so inviting.

Before she zipped up the top of the large duffel, she felt around under her clothes and pulled out the instrument she'd kept hidden. She hadn't even looked at it since she left. It still felt so strange in her hand, and she still couldn't imagine why Tyler had given it to her in the first place.

The gun.

It might have weighed less than five pounds, but it felt heavier than an entire ton. She had thought to throw it out, to leave it behind. She wasn't the type to fire something that could mortally wound, or even kill someone. She didn't even know how it would work. But even so, she kept it. It was protection, she told herself. It was insurance.

She breathed heavily as she wrapped one of her thick sweaters around the gun, and stuffed it back into the bottom of the bag.

As if on cue, a knock sounded on her bedroom door.

Caroline gasped, instinctively running to the vanity to check her appearance. Her curls had been smothered after tossing and turning in bed that night, her complexion even paler than usual from lack of proper rest. Pinching her cheeks for temporarily rosy cheeks, she rushed to the door.

Could she really face Stefan right now? How would she explain everything to him?

But when the door opened, it wasn't Stefan standing there. It was his darker, though equally as handsome, brother.

"Damon," her lips pursed together in distaste, not quite in the dapper mood to deal with his antics today. After dealing with one hostile Salvatore, she wasn't jumping at the chance to fight off another. "What do you want?"

The older boy stood with an uncharacteristically apologetic stance, his hands behind his back, his neck craned and head lowered. Pale blue eyes glanced at deeper blue, and she waited for him to speak.

"I'm sorry," he muttered out hastily, all in one breath, "I shouldn't have called you what I did at dinner that night, I was wrong." He said it so quickly that she almost couldn't understand him.

She didn't know how to respond at first, but slowly, the edges of her lips were beginning to raise. Stefan had once explained to her that Damon didn't do apologies, that he felt they were beneath him. Even when the older brother shot the younger in the arm with a pellet gun, Damon never felt it necessary to say sorry.

She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off.

"Don't," he warned, so seriously that it only made her smile spread. "Whatever," he looked over his shoulder, probably to see if anyone else was in the hallway.

"And it might now mean much coming from me, but for what it's worth, my father was wrong last night. He knows it too,"

"Oh," was all she could make out.

"There's no car, no train ticket," he murmured lowly, keeping his volume down.

"What?"

"See you soon," Damon winked, before taking his leave. And just as he took his first step, the door to Stefan's room opened across the hall. The light haired brother took one look at the scene, and immediately took a defensive stance.

"Good Morning, brother," Damon greeted with faux cheer, slapping his younger sibling on the back as he passed. "Well aren't you going to be the last one to know?" He smirked.

Stefan, obviously perplexed, tried to step after him.

"You two better hurry and get ready," Damon tapped the face of his watch, "Don't want to be late,"

"Late for what?" this time it was Caroline's turn to speak up.

"It's Sunday," was all the explanation Damon gave before waving goodbye, his signature Cheshire grin sitting smugly on his face as he walked away.

Caroline looked to Stefan, who looked no more excited than she did. But now that they were alone, he looked far more relaxed. A kind smile and a twinkling light in his eyes, he came over to her.

"Hey," he whispered huskily, gently tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. "You okay?"

"Yes," she responded more shyly than she had meant to. "And you?"

"I'm perfect now," he looked down at her, "What was Damon doing before? Did he do anything?"

She followed up with a smile, "Actually, yes," she felt Stefan's muscles tense before she added, "He apologized to me,"

Stefan's jaw dropped a bit, before he managed to recover. He looked at her sideways, examining her closely. He put his hand on Caroline's forehead, "Well you don't have a fever?"

"What?" she laughed as she playfully swatted Stefan's hand away.

"So that means you've either gone crazy, or you're a liar," he observed gravely, before cracking a smile again.

"Stefan, are you really accusing me of lying to you?"

"No, of course not." He denied, his hands up in defense, "I'm just saying you've probably lost your mind, because I've never seen Damon apologize to anyone before in my life. At least, not on his own volition, or sincerely,"

She eyed him up, "Well then the impossible has happened,"

"Wow," Stefan let out, after realizing she was serious. "I guess there's a first time for everything,"

"I guess so," she was beaming. She paused to think again, before asking. "What was Damon talking about, not being late and it being Sunday?"

Stefan's expression fell instantaneously, as he groaned aloud. "Salvatore Sunday Brunch."

**-p-**

He held her hand on the way downstairs. He was clearly tense at the prospect of seeing his father for the first time in two years. He had been home for three full days, yet his own father never found it a priority to meet with him.

Their relationship was bad, but this was an all time low.

Stefan seemed so preoccupied with his own thoughts that Caroline hesitated to think of what to say to Stefan. She could only assume that there was some ploy to let her stay longer than that morning. But with this family, she never really knew.

She honestly didn't want to give him more to worry about.

Elena had sent Bonnie over to Caroline's room with a powder blue dress, one that emphasized the distinct hue of her eyes. It was no surprise that Elena's taste was incomparable to anyone else's. The dress looked beautiful on Caroline. As soon as she finished changing, Stefan was outside her door again. He looked nervous, partly because he didn't think that she had met Giuseppe yet.

He guided her down the long winding staircase, somewhat lost in his own thoughts. The click of her heels echoed loudly as they made their way to the dining room, and the couple stood outside the large double doors that separated them from the meal that was to come.

Stefan was about to pull her forward, when she tugged back.

"What's wrong?" Stefan was by her side, green grey eyes once again filled with the most genuine concern. "We don't have to meet him if you don't want, my father is not the warmest of people on this earth,"

Caroline didn't say anything, and Stefan continued.

"If you'd like, we could just skip it and go into town again. You never did finish browsing the book store, and—"

He stopped talking, because she had brought her hand to the back of his neck and pulled him close. He leaned down, just until their foreheads were touching, the tips of their noses brushing together. In hopes of calming down, Stefan closed his eyes. She wasn't sure if that was her heartbeat of his that she was hearing.

They remained like that for a long moment, neither of them moving away.

"Stefan," she whispered softly, her hand trailing from his neck to the side of his face, "I met with your father last night,"

His eyes snapped open, part in shock and part in something close to betrayal.

Before she had time to explain, before he even had time to ask, the double doors began to open. Instinctively, they tried to put as much distance between themselves before everyone's eyes would land on them.

They had been the last to arrive, their seats empty, Elena and Damon across from them, Beth in her respective spot on the end.

Giuseppe sat at the far head of the table, a knowing look in his eyes. He held a small glass of champagne in his hand, he raised it up, toasting to the two of them.

"Well, you're here at last,"

They were eerily the same words he had said to her when they first met last night, only this time he was talking to the two of them.

"Why don't you both take a seat?"

Giuseppe's eyes never left the couple as he took a long sip from his glass.

Before they retired to their seats, Stefan, out of courtesy, approached his father's chair. They shook hands cordially, and that was that. "Welcome home, Son,"

"Glad to be back, Father,"

There was blatant suspicion going around the table. Caroline looked around apprehensively. Damon was glowering in his own corner by himself, taking moderate to generate gulps of his drink. Elena's soft features had turned into a worried visage, her eyes constantly flicking from her plate to Stefan. Beth seemed concentrated on her food. Stefan's left hand was clenched into a fist under the table, the slight veins sticking out on his arm.

"Why Stefan," Beth's stern voice broached in the middle of the meal, "Don't you think it would be polite to introduce Caroline to your father?" She had meant well, but Stefan had been running long on a short fuse.

Stefan's jaw flexed as he opened his mouth, but Caroline moved quickly and put her hand gently on his forearm under the table. She gave him a soothing look, and much to his chagrin, it helped. He reached for a cup of water next to his plate, taking one long sip.

"I don't believe that would be necessary, as they've already met,"

In the background, Elena sucked in a sharp breath.

Beth didn't quite understand, her head bobbing from her younger son to her husband. "Really?" she stopped, "When?"

"I'm not really sure, as I wasn't aware of present at the said meeting," Stefan spoke up, his eyes leveling with Giuseppe's.

"Caroline and I had a short conversation, Stefan. Nothing to get so worked up over,"

"I find that hard to believe," Stefan muttered under his breath, "What did you do this time? I'm sure you tried to convince her to leave," the accusation was loaded, but in context it was no illogical jump.

Caroline meant to say something, but someone beat her to it.

Giuseppe cleared his throat, "Actually, I threatened her." He corrected.

"What?" Beth gasped.

"But she stood her ground," Giuseppe shifted his line of vision slightly, now it rested on Caroline instead. "Quite the girl you've found for yourself, Stefan."

The distant clatter of fine chine and silverware sounded.

"What?" Stefan tried to understand what was happening, simply because this was not what he expected in the least.

"Miss Forbes reminded me of a few things I've seemed to have forgotten, and I'd like a chance to rectify the situation I've constructed. Against me initial judgment, I would very much like to extend my personal offer for her to stay here with us. It would please me greatly if you would stay as well, Stefan." Giuseppe reached for his fork, taking a neat bite off his plate.

The rest of the room was in complete silence. Brunch finished without another word exchanged.

**-p-**

Stefan seemed calmer after that, but he still didn't say anything to Caroline after the meal. He did, however, invite her to take a walk that afternoon.

"You're beautiful, you know that?"

She looked up to face him, only to see him looking directly back at her.

He had every intention of confronting her about what had happened, when the compliment slipped out without him thinking. He couldn't help but admire her in every moment they spent together. He was upset with her, but he had to say it. It felt so natural on his tongue, those words.

"And you're very handsome," she countered, hoping it would lighten the heavy mood.

They were walking, their steps in unison, when Caroline spotted shade under a large tree. It was a huge structure, the plant perhaps hundreds of years old. On one of the taller branches, were two ropes, a plank of wood suspended a few feet in the air above the ground.

The two of them didn't need to say anything to communicate simpler things, and he understood her intention when she took his hand and led him over. He expected her to sit on the single swing, and for him to push her. But he should have known that she was the most unexpected person he would ever meet.

He couldn't hold back the smile when she motioned for him to sit on the swing instead.

"Really?"

She didn't answer him, only pushing him lightly so he would sit down.

"Alright, fine," he eventually agreed. After a few minutes of her struggling to push him, he laughed and motioned for her to come around so she could be in front of him. He tried to stand up, but she put her hands on his shoulders to keep him in place.

"Are you angry at me?" she asked in a small voice, hoping his answer was no. He was the one dependable and consistent person in her life, she couldn't stand the thought of the two of them being at odds.

He shook his head solemnly, his face serious now. "No," it got a little easier for her to breathe then, "It would take a whole lot more than that to make me angry with you." His hand rose as he gently traced the edge of her cheek with his knuckles, and when he was about to pull away, she took her hands to keep his against her face.

"I'm sorry," Caroline apologized, "For not telling you earlier, about meeting your father."

He sighed pointedly, "I'm just having a hard time understanding why you think you couldn't tell me about it."

"I know," she hung her head, "I'm sorry," she repeated over again.

"I'm not fond of secrets, of any kind," Stefan said, "I want you to trust me, I want you to be able to come to me for help. That's what I'm here for, Caroline. I will always be here for you,"

She nodded in agreement, unwilling to say anything aloud. She did trust Stefan, more than she could care to admit. But there were some things she wasn't sure she could tell him yet, or ever. The whole debacle with Tyler, having to be on the run, the danger of the mob, she was keeping it all from him.

But all of that, it all felt irrelevant, like it was all part of a different life. She felt new here, like she had been born again. A new chance, a new life. It felt like everything would crumble down around her if she were to remember the past, to remember what she was keeping at bay.

She never wanted to lose him. She wouldn't be able to survive without him.

And then, much like in the manner Stefan had paid her the earlier comment, it just slipped out of her mouth.

"I love you."

Like the crack of a whip, his voice abruptly cut through the air. _"What?"_

As if it had just occurred to her what she had just said, she was petrified with so many different emotions that she couldn't think straight. She dropped his hand from her face, and took a step back. Stefan was staring at her, green grey eyes wide, questioning her.

What had she done? Oh no, oh no, oh no. There had always been some lingering affection with Stefan, something that had always felt like something more than friendship. Yet everything was happening so quickly, so fast, that she had no idea that her feelings for Stefan had escalated.

Writing the letters, meeting at the train station, exploring the woods under the stars, wandering the town, burying Matt, all of it had made her feel so close to him.

But she hadn't even admitted her feelings for Stefan to herself, how could she have just confessed them to him right then and there?

She wasn't sure if this was appropriate, she wasn't sure if he felt the same way. What if she had imagined all of it, the stronger connection? What if he thought she was insane, what if he wanted nothing to do with her anymore? She couldn't bear that thought, cutting all ties with him would be the death of her all over again.

Her buried her face in her hands, unable to look at him. Fear pricked the back of her spine as she spun around, she could hear him standing up behind her.

"What did you just say?" Stefan's unmistakable voice inquired breathlessly.

Caroline knew it, this was all too absurd. She just wanted to escape.

She was about to make a run for it, but mid stride, she felt him grab her arm. He turned her around, one hand pulling her close, the other cradling her head, and without warning, his lips were against hers.

The sensation of the kiss was so different than anything either of them had experienced. It wasn't sparks or fireworks. It was wildfire, her entire body suddenly hot, feverish. The temperature had increased to infinity, but it felt better than anything else in the entire world. She didn't want to stop, and she wouldn't have unless he pulled away first.

"Say it again," Stefan ordered desperately, his eyes staring into hers. Dumbfounded by the whirlwind of events, she looked blankly at him. "I need you to say it again,"

She looked at him, drinking in his appearance, comprehending just what was happening. This was better than anything she could have dreamed up, because this was reality. "I love you," she said again, louder, smiling now because all of this might mean he felt the same way. "I love you, Stefan Salvatore."

He froze, holding her tightly in his arms, as if he were unable to process what she just said. And then, like magic, it sank in.

"Thank God," he let out. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hanging onto him because her knees were weakening. His hands went to her waist, supporting her weight with ease. "Thank God, Caroline, because I love you too."

She now understood why he asked her to repeat it.

"Say it again,"

He was smiling now too, and so he leaned down even lower, so his lips were right next to her ear. "I love you, Caroline Forbes."

**End Chapter 13**

A/N: Please review if you want me to continue!


	14. Chapter 14

**Letters to You: Part III **_Caroline and Stefan are together at last. They are truly happy, and ready to embark on a new life together. But forces from the past come crashing into their new lives and change their relationship in unimaginable ways._

**Chapter 14**

_October 1945_

"That one."

Her slender finger pointed up at the midnight sky in no particular direction. She waited for a response, and was only answered by the low hum of his chuckle that came deep from his chest.

She turned her head around up to him, finding a good-natured smile gracing his face. "Not quite," he whispered in her ear, taking her hand and guiding it into the correct placement. "It's that one right there."

The two of them had taken up stargazing recently. As a pastime he used to enjoy in his youth, stargazing felt like the perfect activity to teach the wonderful woman who now rested in his lap.

They were sitting on the grassy hills near the back of the estate. It was a brisk night, but the weather was no problem that couldn't be overcome by shared body heat. She snuggled her back against his chest, as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

Caroline groaned with frustration. "I give up," she surrendered with her hands in the air, "I guess Orion just doesn't want to be seen. I've studied all your books and I am still positively horrible at this."

"You're not horrible," he contested, trying to mask another laugh by clearing his throat. She was adorable.

She looked back up at him, feigning offense with her mouth open aghast. "Excuse me if I'm mistaken, Mister Salvatore, but it seems to me like you're quite enjoying my plight."

"I would never," he shook his head, unable to hide his wide grin. He was always smiling these days, smiling like the world had something new to offer him. She was his savior with an unimaginable impact on his life.

She playfully elbowed him, shifting out of his grasp as if to stand up. But he pulled her back down before she could, snaking one arm around her waist and then bringing his head down so his chin rested in the nook of her shoulder. She settled against him, comfortable as she was dressed in one of his sweaters too big for her.

There was some more laughter, and it was followed by a small silence. She closed her eyes, breathing in the air, asking herself if this was all a reality. Because in all honesty, it all felt too good to be true.

"The starlight," he paused, locking eyes with deep blue, "It suits you." He reached out as his fingers brushed gently across her cheek, "You're beautiful."

It was a compliment he would repeat over and over again, but one that never really lost its meaning. She took his breath away every day, every moment, and every second they were together. It didn't make any sense, but hell, love would never be logical.

"I love you," he murmured into her neck. He couldn't say it enough. He swore he even said it in his sleep.

She looked up at the sky, deep in thought, before turning so she was facing him. She leaned in close, so their noses were nearly touching. She smiled, the ends of her eyes crinkling.

Nothing had ever felt so natural out of her mouth.

"And I love you."

**-p-**

There was something of a strange coexistence between Caroline and Elena. The two of them were spending their days alone together, especially since Stefan had already returned to work with his brother and father. He couldn't spend his days holed up with Caroline anymore, even if he desperately wanted to. He was gone during the day and came back in the evening.

So Elena was all that was left to spend her days with.

There was no apparent animosity between them, but Caroline knew there were troubled waters beneath their bridge. While Stefan never had to explicitly say so, she could sense that there was some drama behind her abrupt intrusion last September.

Elena had initially hoped that Caroline's stay would be temporary, but it was becoming clear that her stay was indefinite. Giuseppe had extended his welcome, and the Salvatore home was Caroline's as long she wanted.

The darker haired girl couldn't help but be disappointed. She would bite her tongue like she'd been taught, sticking true to the etiquette of a lady she'd been taught. But this whole charade was growing more and more exhausting to keep up.

The truth hurt—it hurt that Stefan didn't love her back. It hurt that he brought home some stranger. It hurt that she could only helplessly watch as the couple fell deeper and deeper in love. But Elena didn't hate Caroline, although she wished she could. She understood that Caroline had done nothing wrong. Damon told her about Caroline's childhood love who had perished in the War, about how his death was what first connected Stefan and Caroline.

But she couldn't help but think that, since Caroline had experienced the loss of her first love, that she would be more sympathetic to her own loss of at one point was resolved to win back the younger Salvatore brother. The fight in Elena had been reignited. She planned to remind him of the pureness of her emotion, how genuine her love was for him.

Elena baked Stefan his favorite cookies that Beth used to make the boys when they were children. She held a cup of milk and a plate of baked goods in her hands, ready to push the door open to give the treats to Stefan when she heard it.

It was a deep laughter that vibrated throughout the air. The sound so foreign she had to pause and think about who it belonged to. She was blocked behind the entryway, but she already knew who was inside the room.

The low laugh was joined by a slightly higher toned one.

Caroline and Stefan, of course.

Elena set down the glass of milk and the plate on the ground in the hallway, peeking through the door only a bit so her presence wouldn't be noticed.

Stefan was sitting on the couch, clutching his stomach in what would've looked like pain if he didn't have a wide smile pinned to his lips. This was a smile she wasn't used to seeing on his stoic face; this was a smile that reached up to corners of his his eyes and morphed his expression of genuine happiness.

Stefan was happy.

The light haired couple was lost together in their own world, completely oblivious to her intruding gaze.

It was in that moment that Elena realized that she could never win Stefan, because he had long been won over by the flaxen haired woman next to him.

She could never make him smile like that, laugh like that, or feel like that. That was the simple truth she had denied until this second. There was only one woman in this world who Stefan loved, and it wasn't her.

Bittersweet, Elena stepped back, closed the door, and picked up the milk and cookies from the floor. She began walking back down the hall into the kitchen.

Damon was waiting for her, leaning on the island counter. His ice blue eyes glanced down at the items in her hands.

"For me?" he smirked, "You shouldn't have."

He half expected her roll her eyes and throw the milk into his face. But instead, she simply handed him the pastries. "Knock yourself out, Damon."

His eyebrow furrowed low, and he opened his mouth to retort when he took a closer look at face. "Hey," he set the plate down onto the table, "Are you alright?" He took a step closer. There was a tear threatening to fall from her brown eyes.

She looked up at him, sighing deeply. "Never better," she answered, obviously uncomfortable. She looked away from his gaze, pressing her lips together before breaking into a smile. She let out a small laugh, "And for once, that's the truth."

**-p-**

Somehow, Elena and Caroline became the best of friends.

After Elena began to accept that Stefan was never going to be romantically linked to her, her world began to open to new possibilities. She had been so blinded by her absolute idolization of one boy that she never had the opportunity to enjoy other aspects of her life.

She was no longer obsessed with what other people thought or with maintaining the perfect reputation to win over a boy who never felt the same way.

They could gossip together, and began ganging up on the Salvatore brothers, much to their chagrin. It was nice having another young woman in the house for Elena, and even nicer for Caroline to finally have a female companion to exchange thoughts with.

Elena was at peace with the situation, and was even beginning to move on. For once, she was truly happy too.

**-p-**

_January 1__st__, 1946_

"_To new beginnings."_

The clock struck twelve, and everyone raised their crystal glasses in the air, toasting the advent of another year. There was cheering and the sound of champagne bottles being popped.

The annual Salvatore New Years Celebration was going off without a hitch. Most of the town was gathered here in their house. This year Caroline had helped Elizabeth plan the party. From decorations to tablecloths to the outfits the entire family would be wearing, Caroline could finally use her expertise as an event planner.

"Cheers to you," Stefan was dressed up in a tux. He adjusted his bowtie before holding his glass up to the year. "You've done amazing with all of this." He gestured to the room around them. Indeed, it was everything she envisioned and more. He was proud of her, not for the party, but for making such a graceful transition. She was really finding her place here.

She tilted her head, smiling and looking up into green grey eyes. "No, Mister Salvatore," she corrected, "Cheers to us."

"Cheers," they repeated together. She clinked her champagne glass with his, and took a delicate sip.

There was something so luxurious about this new lifestyle that she was unaccustomed to, but had grown to love. For all the glamor that she was too afraid to sully with her own self, this place had welcomed her in with open arms.

He took a step closer and closed the distance between them, placing a ginger kiss on her lips. He set both of their glasses down on a nearby table. His hands worked their way to her waist and pulled her body into his. They embraced just like that. The crowd was busy enough here and neither of them cared who saw them. As far as they were concerned, they were alone.

She mentioned here and there little details of her old life to Stefan. No one knew the entirety of her backstory, and Stefan never pushed her to share anything she wasn't comfortable with. He only hoped that any secret that mattered she would have already told him.

This was their new life together, and they were ringing in the new year without a worry in the world. He couldn't imagine life without her anymore, even if she had only stayed with him for a matter of months.

She was getting into the lull of things around here. Caroline and Elena were spending more time together and were almost inseparable now. The two young women were always linking arms and walking around together.

However, there was one person in particular who couldn't wrap her mind around Caroline's history. Elizabeth had always been a skeptic and pessimist at heart. She watched as the charismatic and seemingly sweet girl won over the rest of her family.

Of course Stefan was head over heels, but Elizabeth was surprised at Elena's acceptance of Caroline. And then it was no surprise that where Elena's heart was, Damon's followed. Her eldest son transformed from snarky and cold, warming to see Caroline not as a threat but a welcome addition to their home.

However, Beth wasn't so easily convinced.

"Mrs. Salvatore," someone tapped her shoulder, "This is absolutely amazing."

Elizabeth turned around to see one of her dearer friends, Pearl. The other woman looked stunning in her own right. "Of course, thank you."

"You've truly outdone yourself. I don't know what your secret is, but I absolutely must know. Do you have some magician planning your parties that I don't know about?"

She opened her mouth to respond, when she was joined by her husband who answered in her place. "In fact, we do have something of a magician in our midst now." Giuseppe stepped in by his wife's side. The two of them had a cold marriage nowadays. But they nonetheless remained civil and cordial, especially in front of their guests.

"Caroline, Stefan," Giuseppe called out, "The two of you, come here." He beckoned the young couple over. They both walked over, hands clasped together.

"Pearl, this is the wonderful Miss Caroline Forbes who has graced us with this magnificent gathering."

Pearl looked up and down the younger woman.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Caroline." The older woman extended her arm. "If you wouldn't mind, I would love to get your input on another gathering I have coming up for my youngest daughter's eighteenth birthday. Seeing the magic you worked tonight, I'd like to use your expertise for her party."

"Of course," Caroline responded, a disbelieving smile on her face.

Beth looked over, suddenly feeling as if she could use another drink. She sighed, walking away from the small crowd fawning over the new blonde arrival. There was something off about this girl, she just knew it. No one was perfect—everyone had their flaws. Beth believed those flaws were hidden in the girls past. It was only a matter of time before they would be uncovered.

**-p-**

_August 1946_

"No way," Damon shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm too damned tired for this."

The sun was shining harshly on this day, but the hot weather was something they welcomed now. It was so bright, all the other yellow and red banners, tents, and rides all around them. It was the a typical summer day in Virginia.

"Oh come on, don't ruin everyone else's fun just because you're not a fan of the fair." Elena narrowed her eyes, walking so that she was standing right in front of him. She didn't even flinch when Damon glared straight at her.

"I second that!" Caroline jumped in from the side, a wide smile across her features. She squealed as Stefan came from behind her and wrapped his arms around her. He buried his smile into the nape of her neck.

"Back me up, Stefan. There's no way you want to go on the Ferris Wheel. We're not children."

"I'm sorry, brother, but I think my vote is already spoken for." Stefan shot his older sibling a sheepish smile, glancing down at the flaxen hair woman in his arms.

If looks could kill, Caroline would have been on the floor unconscious.

"It's okay, you baby. Elena will keep you company and stop you from fainting if the situation calls for it," Caroline teased.

The relationship between all of them had grown more comfortable. They might as well have been kids playing out on their own.

The foursome had snuck out of the house early that morning to drive to the County Fair. Damon was exhausted after having just returned from a trip to Charleston, but Elena took no pity on him and unceremoniously barged into his room to drag him out to the car.

While it was clear that Stefan and Caroline were growing ever closer over time, it was also apparent that another couple under the same roof was becoming more involved.

Damon had always held an unrequited torch for Elena, that much was nothing new. But no one could have predicted that Elena would one day open up to him as well.

"Let's go!" Elena said, and uncharacteristically bold, she reached for Damon's hand and skipped her way in the direction of the Ferris Wheel.

Stefan looked at his older brother being led by Elena and stood their slack-jawed. Damon was in equal awe as all he could do as follow Elena in silence. "Since when did—"

Caroline only laughed. "A couple months, maybe," she shrugged. The brunette girl had made a complete change from the time they met. No longer trapped by a hopeless love, she was finally able to explore her own self. Who knew that she would soon realize that the man she really belonged with as always by her side this entire time?

Caroline put her hand on his shoulder and rested her chin on him. She gazed up at him. He was like the sun she would always revolve around. He was always there for her.

"You're staring," he pointed out.

"And you're loving it."

He couldn't argue with that. He let out a light-hearted laugh. It always felt so natural, being with her.

"Come on, we better join those two before Elena murders Damon with her newfound cheeriness." Stefan took Caroline's hand as they headed in the same way that his brother had just left in.

The sun was beginning to set, and the sky had turned as sort of pinkish orange. The young couple sat in their own cart.

And as they sat in the Ferris Wheel cart together, her head resting upon his strong shoulders, she came to realization. Her fingers were interlocked with his as they sat in a comfortable silence. They knew each other so well to the point where sometimes their communication was unspoken. It became unnecessary to spell out every detail of their thoughts, simply because they already knew what was going on inside each other's heads.

They were high off the ground now, and she looked absent-mindedly at the horizon. Stefan was relaxing, enjoying his time alone with the woman he loved. He shifted slightly hoping to make his shoulder a bit more comfortable for her.

Her eyes were on the verge of closing, the warmth of the setting sun's rays gently gracing her fair complexion.

She wanted to stay here forever. Everything was perfect—a dream.

But even she wasn't foolish enough to think that was truly possible. Nothing this good lasted forever. Caroline had been so consumed building a new life her with Stefan that she almost forgot about the one she had left behind that day.

Sometimes there were nightmares. Sometimes she was back in New York, back in her mother's apartment with Tyler. His face haunted her. Her dear childhood friend. For all she knew, he could be dead. She shouldn't have left him, she should've looked for him, waited for him, done something besides run away like a scared girl. She wanted to believe that she was stronger than this.

But out of selfishness, she was too scared to even look for Tyler. He had sacrificed himself for her, and she couldn't even call up her mother to see if he was alive because she was afraid of giving up her identity. She didn't want to ruin what she had with Stefan.

Her world was so dark before she came here, before him. She didn't want to go back. Being in Mystic Falls, making friends with the townspeople, Elena, and maybe even Damon. It was all a wonderful, beautiful, and cruel mirage.

"Is something wrong?" His concern broke through her last train of thought. He sensed something off, her muscles had suddenly tensed.

She let out a forced laugh. "No, nothing's wrong," she lied.

His eyebrows knitted together, pulling low over his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something when she stopped him. She scooted closer to him, closing her eyes over again. "There's nothing wrong here. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world than right here with you."

At least that last part wasn't a lie.

**-p-**

_September 1946_

Stefan and Damon were never close growing up.

Damon could never win against Stefan. Stefan was their mother's baby angel, their father's favorite. No matter what he did, he was never better than him. Granted, he began rebelling in hopes of attaining the attention he always craved.

Stefan felt as if he grew up in the shadow of his older brother. He could never understand just why his one and only sibling seemed to resent him. He tried his best at everything to prove to Damon that he was worthy of his attention. The two of them grew extremely competitive.

That competition between them was only exacerbated when Elena joined their family. At the time, he'd been at college in North Carolina all year. His parents only mentioned the new orphan they'd taken in a handful of times. When he went away to school, he thought he could escape from the suffocating world he'd grown up in.

He wanted nothing to do with Mystic Falls. His plan was to leave this godforsaken place once and for all. But then he met the girl who hit him like a wall of bricks. He was trapped here to pine after a girl who was in love with his little brother.

It only made sense that there was some hostility between the two of them.

But now, here in the moment, the two of them were in a better place than either of them remembered. Caroline's arrival had brought the two of them together. Stefan appreciated Damon's support for Caroline, and Damon appreciated how much Stefan seemed to respect Elena's healing space.

"I never said it," Damon paused, "But I'm glad you came back home safe."

He didn't plan to say it, but the words rolled off his tongue anyway. The two brothers were out on their own in a field near the stables. It was a pleasant fall evening, and both of them had wandered out here for some peace of mind. They were going to go out riding, but stopped here to enjoy the atmosphere. The weather was mild, the wind blowing gently.

Stefan glanced back at his brother, somewhat taken aback by the message.

"Thank you," he answered apprehensively, thinking of his next response.

"You know, when you first left I thought I'd be happy with you out of the house." Damon leaned his back against a wooden fence that bordered the field, his hands hidden in his pockets. He looked off into the distance, avoiding Stefan's eyes. "I mean, for once you were the problem son. Mother nearly fainted and father was about ready to follow you to Europe and drag you home by your ears."

Both of them chuckled at that image.

"But after around a week, I think I actually missed you."

Stefan's eyebrows raise at that comment.

"So there," Damon cleared his throat, "It's been said. Now don't go on disappearing without telling anyone anymore."

"Wouldn't think of it," Stefan stood by Damon's side, reclining against the same fence.

"Ah," Damon smiled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I see."

"What?"

"Oh, come on." Damon rolled his eyes, "You know exactly what. Something's different about you now, has been for nearly a year. You would never leave now, not with what you have here."

Stefan glanced over, confusion written all over his expression. "What are you saying?"

"You're still the same moody, brooding, insolent little brat you were when you left for the War. Don't get me wrong," Damon put his hands up, "But, ever since you met Caroline, you're different."

"What do you mean?"

Damon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I really have to spell it out for, don't I? You're different, you're happier, and you're more caring." He enunciated each word as if to emphasize their meaning, "You don't fight with father anymore and you don't just coop yourself up in the library."

Stefan was beginning to understand. For all his perceptiveness, it was taking him quite a bit longer to realize what was happening in this one situation.

Damon continued, "It's like the saying goes, the love of your life makes you a better person."

The love of his life.

"Now I'm just saying this now, before you get any wrong ideas. All of the other girls, whatever random girl you picked up when we were teenagers, _all _of them made me want to jump off a bridge. You're my little brother, and although it might not have seemed like in the past, I care about you."

Stefan listened intently.

"So, no one in this world will ever be good enough for you in my eyes. But if you're going to marry a girl at some point in your life, you'd better be damned sure it's going to be Caroline, because I'm not sure I could get used to anyone else."

**-p-**

The nightmares were getting worse.

Sometimes she woke up in a cold sweat, a silent scream caught in the back of her throat. But tonight it was so much worse.

Tonight she dreamed over Tyler all over again, but this time his unmoving body laid down against the floor of her old bedroom. He was face down, a pool of deep red blood puddling around him.

Caroline stood there, trying to rid herself of that image. But it kept pulling her back in, more violently each time.

"_Don't look back."_

That's what he had said to her the day she fled.

She didn't look back, and she was haunted by that fact.

She hadn't slept well in days, and Stefan and Elena were beginning to notice. Their concern for her was genuine, but it made her anxious. She was just a fraud getting caught up in her lies.

Caroline jumped out of her bed, breathing heavily, her chest heaving up and down uncontrollably. Each breath she got in felt like a gasp. She flipped over her covers, her bare feet prickling from the cold on the floor beneath them.

She bent down, reached under the bed, and pulled out the single duffel bag she had first come here with. Since she'd arrived, by Elena's will, Caroline had accumulated so many other belongings. From fancy clothes to other little trinkets, all her new belongings lived in her new life.

Everything from the past stayed hidden and locked away in this little bag.

Her hand shaking, she slowly pulled out the one item that breathed life back into her old identity. The gun looked exactly the same, but this time it felt larger and heavier in her small hand.

She wasn't Miss Caroline Forbes, ward of the southern Salvatores. Not the Caroline who was bubbly and happy and good at planning parties.

No.

She was really Caroline Forbes who ran away from the people she had known her entire life. She was Caroline Forbes who had abandoned a childhood companion and run for her life instead. She was the daughter who hadn't even written to her mother even once since coming to Mystic Falls.

Her heart was racing so fast that she couldn't think. She stood up abruptly, the gun slipping out of her grasp and clattering onto the wooden floorboards. She was so unstable that she backed up and fell into the bookshelf behind her. Books fell over and there was a crash.

She sat in the middle of the floor in the dead of night, horrified at herself, staring at the gun sitting a foot away from her.

She heard footsteps and the doorknob jingling open, but her own head was pounding was so loud that she couldn't hear who it was.

The bedroom door opened, with light from the hallway peeking in and illuminating the spot where she sat.

"Oh my god."

Caroline looked up and saw Elena standing there, mouth aghast.

"Caroline, what's wrong? What's happened?"

No one knew about her nightmares, not even Stefan.

Elena rushed over and knelt down next to the other girl. She wrapped one arm around her shoulder and attempted to comfort her, shushing her, and rubbing soothing circles on her back.

"I'll go get Stefan," Elena got up and was headed for the door when Caroline caught the brunette's wrist.

"No!" she whispered fiercely. "Please, don't get Stefan."

That would have been the last thing she would've wanted.

"Don't get Stefan," she repeated, this time with more resolve.

"Shhh," Elena sat back down, enveloping Caroline in a warm hug. "Okay, I won't. I won't get Stefan."

"You promise me," Caroline demanded desperately hoarsely.

"I promise," Elena answered faithfully. "It'll be all right, shhh." It scared her, to see Caroline who usually seemed so bright to be so uncharacteristically inconsolable.

The two girls then agreed to move to Elena's room for the night and share her bed. Elena was picking everything up, placing the books back on the shelf carefully not to make excessive noise to wake the boys that slept right down the hall.

Elena was always been a light sleeper, much lighter than any of the Salvatores.

The dark-haired girl was about to join Caroline who had already moved to the other bedroom and close the door, when she spotted something out of the corner of her eye.

She gasped out loud, stifling the sound of it with her hand.

The gun.

It sat untouched on the ground, right next to the duffle that had been dragged from out underneath the bed.

Elena looked over her shoulder, as if to see if anyone else had seen the same thing. She got closer, looking over and seeing the firearm up close.

Things just got a hell of a lot more complicated, that was for sure.

**-p-**

Caroline woke up the next morning, initially confused why she wasn't sleeping in her own room when she heard Elena shift in her sleep next to her.

Everything came back to her and she jumped up. Elena was still fast asleep, so Caroline used the opportunity to head back to her own room. When she got back, it was like the bedroom was back to normal. All of the furniture was as it was, all the books back on their rightful places on the shelf. Her duffle bag was back underneath the bag.

Everything was where was it was supposed to be.

But that's when she remembered. Shuffling through the contents of the bag, Caroline began to panic as she realized Tyler's gun was gone. It just disappeared without a trace.

She began fingering the lazuli ring on her hand, as she often did when she was nervous. Her mind ran through a thousand scenarios of what could have happened.

That was when she head footsteps outside her door. Caroline shoved the bag under the bed and stood up. The sound of knuckles knocking against wood sounded outside.

"Come on in," Caroline answered, swallowing over a lump in her throat.

Stefan peeked his head in. "You're up awfully early," he smiled, beaming from ear to ear as he usually did when he saw her in the mornings. He walked over and placed a light kiss on her forehead.

He looked down at her, his hand cupping the side of her visage.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, observing her unusually pale complexion.

"Yes," she shook her head, "I'm fine. Just tired is all," she assured him, placing her hand on his.

"Are you sure?" Stefan was skeptical.

Just as Caroline was about to answer, Elena's voice cut in. "Of course," Elena had a wide smile plastered on her face, "Everything will be just fine."

The brunette beauty took to Caroline's side, linking arms with the other girl.

"Stefan!" It was Damon's voice that intruded this time, and he sidestepped into the doorway. Both boys were dressed in suits, ready to head out to work. "Are you coming?"

"Yes," Stefan answered, his eyes still fixed on Caroline. She avoided his gaze, her line of vision concentrating on the floor. "Alright, well I'll see you tonight." He leaned in and gave her another kiss.

Caroline forced a smile. "Of course," she mimicked Elena's earlier lie. "See you tonight."

**-p-**

That afternoon, she snuck out for a moment on her own.

Elena was continuing to act as if nothing had happened, making Caroline wonder where the gun was.

Nonetheless, the blonde told Elena and Elizabeth she was heading out for a walk when she headed into town by herself. Her footsteps were heavy when she headed to the post station.

She looked down at her hands, an envelope between her fingers.

She didn't write a return address, but she did include the name of who the mail was for. She took a deep breath and tried not to overthink it.

Last night had been too risky. She had to do the only thing that she could. She slipped the letter into the mailing station and walked away.

Her new world was crashing down, and she owed it to herself to fight to keep it alive.

As she headed back to the Salvatore mansion, she repeated it like a mantra in her head, over and over again. _Don't look back. _

**End Chapter 14 **

**A/N:** It has been a long time, and it's lovely to be back. This chapter is where the plot thickens. I hope you enjoyed reading, and please leave a review if you can or if you want me to continue the story.

Thank you, truly, for all the support thus far. It's been an absolute pleasure writing and I hope you stick with the story as it unfolds.

And shoutout to **Seph Meadowes** for creating the beautiful online cover for this story. She has other graphics and writes lovely stories as well.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

_December 1946_

A thick, awkward tension filled the air.

"So, what are you two girls scheming now?"

Three women sat around a small coffee table. There was a tray of pastries in the middle of them, each with a cup of tea in their hands. Caroline froze, looking to Elena before returning her gaze to the older woman in their presence. She cleared her throat to stall for time, preparing her answer.

"We were thinking it might be nice to get away, for a bit."

Elena looked over at her friend, big brown orbs staring at the blonde ready to examine her every move. It had been a few weeks since the last incident that night—when Caroline's gun had magically disappeared from her room.

Elena never brought the weapon up in conversation. To the best of Caroline's knowledge, Elena only knew that Caroline had a fit after a nightmare. That was the end of the story.

And since Caroline had sent the letter in the mail and cleared at least some portion of her conscious, the nightmares had tamed. All she hoped was that any suspicions Elena had were tamed for the time being.

Beth raised an eyebrow, observing how the girls waited nervously for her response. She let out a small scoff, "I hardly think it would be appropriate for the two of you to travel away on your own. I don't see why you won't just agree to bring the boys along. I'm sure Giuseppe would have no issue giving Stefan and Damon a couple of days off to accompany you."

Caroline and Elena wanted to venture off to New Orleans for a girls weekend. They had been planning to do so for a few months, and now they were craving some alone time.

"It's just that Caroline's birthday is coming up soon, and we were hoping to go out and celebrate the two of us. We all know that Stefan is going to hog her to himself when we come back."

"I wish I could let you two go. But it simply isn't appropriate for two young women to go out on their own. I'm afraid your request is out of the question."

Beth watched the disappointment spread over their faces, when she continued, "And it's so close to Christmas. I would like all of us spend time together as a family this time of the year."

The young blonde and brunette exchanged another glance between them. Beth watched closely.

Many always praised Stefan for his perceptiveness, but few had realized that he had inherited such a trait from his mother. Elizabeth Salvatore was a storm of a woman to mess with. She could tell that the dynamic between Caroline and Elena had been off recently. The two were happy as usual, but an unspoken stress now stood in the middle.

"I believe that this discussion is over, ladies. Unless either of you have any business to discuss with my personally, I would very much like to get back to my day."

"Of course," Caroline let out, feeling a weight drown in her chest.

She had been dying to get out of the house, out of Mystic Falls even if for a few moments. It was beginning to stifle her. Not to add, she needed to speak to Elena away from prying eyes and ears to discover what Elena knew about the gun. And if she knew nothing, Caroline still longed to confess even a hint of her history to another soul.

Secrets were weighing her heart down.

While being with Stefan made her unbelievably happy, the burden of her lies was starting to rip through her. She knew he could tell something was wrong with her, but anytime he inquired about it she would shut him down. She'd give him a kiss and tell him not to worry.

"Come on, Caroline," Elena extended her hand to help Caroline up. The light haired girl accepted her graciously, standing to her feet. "Thank you, Beth."

"I'll see you two girls later, then."

Both of them shuffled their way out, the click of the door sounding when they left.

**-p-**

Caroline stood outside, staring into space at nothing in particular.

There was something so beautiful about snow. White, pure, cold enough not to be water, warm enough not to be hail. It fell from the sky in white flakes.

It was like the snow was mourning the death of all the nature that perished the earlier season. While the trees turned colorful months before, it was all bare branches and a depressing mix of blacks and browns.

"You're going to catch a cold if you keeping going like this," a voice came from behind. She of course recognized who it belonged to, a smile finding its way back to her lips. If it was even possible, it felt like all the anxiety melted away.

She swiveled around, peeking out from behind the scarf around her neck.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked, his hands in his pockets as he stepped closer. He could see his breath in the frigid air. "It's almost—" The wind was knocked out of him when she jumped on him, her arms on him.

His hands found their way to her back. "Oh my god, Caroline. You're freezing." He put his hand to her cheek, confirming her icy touch. "How long have you been out here?"

She didn't respond at first, just hoping to keep him in her arms. He steadied her weight with his hands on her waist. "Hey," his tone was softer now, his eyes wide as he held onto her tighter. "Hey, what's going on?"

Caroline stopped, sucking in a breath of cold air.

And then, it was like everything was better. She let go of Stefan and stepped away. "I'm fine," she had another smile on her face. It looked real, at least to anyone who didn't know her as well as he did. She clapped her hands together, "I just missed you, that's all."

He bit the inside of his cheek, looking at her with an analytical eye. She had been unstable recently. Her smile wasn't as bright, and her laugh not as loud.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, looking up at him expectantly. "What?" she asked once he didn't respond.

He took his hands and removed her arms from his nape and clasped them between his own. "What's going on?" he repeated sternly.

She shook her head, a forced laugh came through her lips. "I just said that I was fine, Stefan. I'm okay. I promise."

He didn't falter, not this time. "Caroline, you know you can tell me anything that's going on, don't you?"

"Of course I know that—"

"Then tell me what's going on in your head right now."

It was always getting more difficult to hide herself from him. She'd let him in so deep that he knew more about her than she was really comfortable even knowing herself.

"I'm just thinking of how happy I am to see you. I don't know how else to—"

Before she could finish he had ripped away from her, propelling backwards. She watched him, her mouth open, as he paced back and forth and ran a hand over his face.

"Stefan, please don't do that."

He didn't say anything.

"Stefan," she pleaded, "Don't do that."

He stopped to look at her.

"Then tell me the truth, Caroline. I don't know how else to do anything. There's something eating at you, for weeks now. And you can't even tell me!" The last part had amplified into a shout. He never raised his voice at her, and the tone made her wince. "I'm not sure how I'm supposed to help you if you don't tell me, if you don't let me in!"

Her line of vision rested on the ground now. She couldn't look at him in the eye. Her head had dropped, her shoulders slumped.

His chest heaved up and down, "You need to tell me. I can't protect you if you aren't honest with me."

And that was what snapped something in her. She was done with all of this, with worrying. She had been protected by people her entire life, and it had done nothing but cause chaos and suffering to her and those she loved.

Matt had to protect her from herself and her father. He was dead now. Tyler had tried to protect her they day she left the city. He was as good as dead too. And now Stefan, the man she loved more than she knew she could love someone, he wanted to protect her too.

"What if I don't need you to protect me?" she whispered, quietly enough that Stefan couldn't hear her.

"What was that?"

"What if I don't need you to protect me?" she said louder this time, raising her head to meet his gaze.

Maybe it was time for her to take care of herself.

"I can protect myself."

He swiveled around toward her now. His eyes were grey and cold. "You think I want to protect you? You think I want to worry about you? You think that I want every thought in my head to be consumed by you?" He was growing louder, his words echoing throughout the vicinity.

They were just outside the house. Surely someone would hear them.

She had never been intimidated by Stefan. But his disposition now, it was almost menacing.

"I wish I could just let you be. That I could just love you and leave it at that. But I can't, Caroline." His hand clasped the bottom half of his face. He took one stride toward her, but she backed away so that they were even farther apart. "I just can't. That's not how I love someone, and that's not how I love you. For this to work, you're going to have to trust me enough to tell me what's happening."

She folded her arms over her chest. The snow was falling again, slowly at first but it was coming down quickly soon enough.

"You do trust me, don't you?"

She didn't open her mouth to say anything in return. She did trust him, perhaps too much. But she needed to look after herself, and look after Stefan too. She didn't want to ruin the image of the girl he'd fallen for.

"_What's going on out here?"_

The dark haired man appeared next to them, his arms extended out in the air cautiously. Damon had been in the kitchen with Elena when he heard screaming. He left the brunette inside to investigate, telling her to wait for him to come back.

It was strange. Stefan was always so cool headed—he never lost his patience or his temper. Something was up.

"Nothing," Caroline said, her gaze remaining on her shoes. She shoved her way past each of the Salvatore brothers and entered the house again. She couldn't take it anymore.

"What was that?" Damon asked, scrutinizing his brother with narrow eyes.

Stefan flexed his hand in and out of a fist.

"Nothing."

**End Chapter 15**

A/N: First fight between them? Please review if you'd like me to continue.


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